Thief in the Night
by Lywinis
Summary: Lupin and Company team up with an old friend...and for Fujiko, a new rival. Tensions and tempers run high when the heist of the century leads to the trial of the year. LupinxFujiko, LupinxOC, JigenXOC. Rated M for language. [Complete!]
1. Heist of the Century

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the 3rd fanfiction by Lywinis

Chapter One: Heist of the Century

The thin, wispy clouds scudded over the night sky, reaching out with skeletal fingers to stroke the moon's pale white brow. The fall air was crisp with the crackling of leaves lending their slightly sweet scent of decay to the myriad of others in the London night. The wee hours of the morning made the skyline, so busy even at three a.m., seem brighter than it usually was. It was against this backdrop that a lone figure perched on a rooftop, silhouetted against the stark sky. She clutched a velvet bag against her chest, her eyes watching her city as the moon went about its business overhead.

A scuttling near the edge of the rooftop made her turn her head slightly, her nostrils flaring, like a deer in the headlights. It was just a rat. She hoped it was just a rat. She could have sworn it was just a rat. God, she hoped it was a rat.

The cold muzzle of a Walther P-38 pressed against the back of her neck convinced her otherwise. "It's nice to see you again, too, Lupin. Come for me, or just my gems this time?"

She could feel the cocky bastard smirking behind her. "You know, when I want to pull off a job, I usually hire henchmen. But since you insist on doing my work for me, why not let you?"

Bastard. "Well, I hope you realize that to get these gems from me, you're going to have to come get them." She slipped the velvet bag into her formfitting leather top, the bag snug in her cleavage. Zipping it to the throat, she heard him chuckle.

"You always did know how to tease a man."

"Maybe little boys, never men."

"You wound me, dear heart, you really do. Taunting me and then insulting my manhood. If I didn't love you so much, I might get angry." He smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly.

"Smooth words from a smooth customer. You charming might have worked a long time ago. That was then, this is now." Slipping easily away from the gun, she stood, her balance catlike on the sharply angled slate shingles. Folding her arms across her chest, she glared at him, still the gentleman thief in his sport coat and tie. A chill breeze blew her two-toned hair across her face, the blonde streaks seemingly caressing her aristocratic face.

"I don't trust you as far as I could throw you, and from up here, I can throw you a long way down. Spit it out, Lupin. Why are you here, and why do you feel the need to antagonize me on my own turf? I thought we agreed that when you left, London was my area to do with as I pleased?"

He looked sheepish. "I know. But there's something else brewing. Pops can feel it too. I saw him at the station earlier today ordering backup. He never does that unless it's something BIG. Something involving the museum."

"The British Museum?" She hadn't heard anything big from her latest contacts. "What's going on at the museum?"

"You've heard of the Sutton Hoo burial recovery, correct?"

"Of course, my father is a military historian. If anything new had cropped up with that, I probably would be the first to know. He's crazy for that ancient stuff." Her arms didn't unfold, but her posture relaxed slightly.

He pressed his luck, trying to draw her in with the promise of gain. He holstered his pistol, drawing a picture in the air with his hands. "When the ship was uncovered, there was no burial, no body, I mean. Recently, however, a team of scientists was poking around, looking for remnants of pottery, I suppose, when one of them fell through a hole. It seemed that there was a _second_ ship under the first. The rotted wood finally gave way, and he just fell through. He landed on a pile of gold as big as Buckingham Palace, by all accounts. There's also a few rare gems in there, too," he added, knowing her love for precious stones.

It was as if he had uttered the magic words. "Gemstones?" Her eyes, more beautiful than any cut aquamarine, lit up with a feral cunning. "And what would I have to do to get a cut of this?" she asked warily, her hackles up again.

He had to laugh. "My dear, you wouldn't have to do a thing. Just be your lithe, beautiful self, and follow my lead. Meet me back at the Commodore Hotel in Kensington. We have plans to discuss." His smirk hanging in the air, he was gone.

It wasn't until a few moments later that she realized he had left her gemstones intact. Damn it, she needed to be more careful with her haul! If Lupin was in on this, there was no telling how much she might actually lose if she didn't keep her wits. He was slick, and extremely charming when one had something he wanted. She was going to have to be on her toes every minute she spent with him, and twice that every minute they were apart.

She leapt from rooftop to rooftop, her mind awhirl with the possibilities he had presented her. Gems, ancient artifacts worth millions, perhaps even a shot at the gold…she liked the odds, too. Not very tight security, at least, not to her. She'd seen tighter, like when the Crown Jewels were on loan to the British Museum. Back then she wouldn't have dared to even try it, but for one factor. Lupin. Always Lupin. They still didn't know that the precious baubles they guarded were nothing more than pasteboard and painted aluminum. She smiled at the memories. She had been young, in love, and flushed with the success of the biggest heist known to man.

She reached up and touched the diamond set in the pendant she wore. The only thing left from her old life. The only thing left that connected her to Lupin. She smiled slightly, then shook her head. _Just because you were young and foolish then does not mean you can allow yourself to be foolish now_, her brain chided her. Still, her hand stroked the diamond, a gift.

* * *

"_A beautiful gem for a beautiful lady," Lupin said, prying the gemstone out of the crown and presenting it to her._

"_I can't take that…it's worth millions of dollars!" she protested, eyes wide, hands folded in her lap._

"_Less than your share of the entire thing, for your help, my dear," he replied, eyes crinkling in that way he had, taking one of her hands and folding the perfectly cut diamond into it, allowing his hands to rest on hers, large and calloused and warm. Her breath caught in her throat, and color flamed in her cheeks._

"_Th-thank you…"_

"_We'll get it set in a pendant for you later. I know a person suitably discreet, who'll make sure it's the loveliest thing on you, besides your skin."_

* * *

Her father was home, in front of the fireplace. She let herself in the window, her preferred method, and slipped to the floor, padding softly to the back of his chair.

"Did you have a nice night out?" he asked.

"Must you be so damned observant?"

"Indeed, and you'll not swear in this house, young lady."

She sighed and fixed herself a glass of brandy, pouring in two fingers full of the amber liquid and sipping it, letting the burning warmth travel all along her body. Setting the glass down, she opened her bag and placed the gems on the table. Her father hadn't looked up from his book, but she knew he approved of the gems and the cut as well, because the pages weren't rustling as often as before.

For a historian, Alphonse de Brouligiere had made himself a fine empire to leave to his daughter. The owner of one of the finest gem distributors in England and the second largest internationally, he was known as the "Ruby Prince" by the world at large. He owned and operated more than three thousand shops worldwide. Most people could not even get into his shop without an appointment. His daughter, the "Ruby Princess", would be able to afford any type of luxury in the entire world.

She would, that is, had she been in his will.

It didn't bother her, she had other things to worry about, and he tended to be cantankerous when prodded about his arrangements. His reasons were his own. He was her father; she had never questioned him, like he had never questioned her.

She held up an emerald to the candle, the light sparking off the stone and making it dance with a fire of its own. These were indeed well cut. She would have to leave a note at the jeweler's next time she stopped by, thanking them. A smirk curled the edges of her mouth this time. She sounded like the Gentleman Thief.

Alphonse nodded his approval of the stone, then turned back to his book on philosophy. He knew where she had gotten the stones; he didn't care. As long as she didn't pilfer from his shops, her business was her own. It hadn't always been like that. Once, she had been in his will, complete heiress to the finest jewel shops in all of Great Britain. Now, she was nothing more than a cat burglar. All due to some man she had met. He'd had his best private investigators working on it night and day, until she had found out. She had blown up at him, stating her business was her own. In anger, he struck her from his will, and now stubborn pride kept him from reneging. Now an uneasy silence was the norm in the house whenever parent and child were home at the same time.

Stashing her gems in the wall safe in her room, she then slipped out of her "working leathers", as she referred to them. She tugged on a pair of jeans and a sweater, one that showed off the pendant. _And my cleavage_, she thought, her cheeks reddening. She started to change, but then decided if she were to make Lupin uncomfortable, it might just be worth it. She dabbed on a light vanilla scent, her favorite, behind her ears, in the hollow of her throat, and the insides of her wrists, just like her mother had taught her. She threw on a pair of old tennis shoes and struck out for the train station.

* * *

She caught the tube underground to Kensington, and emerged not fifteen minutes later near the Commodore. Strolling up to the door, she crossed the threshold with a strange look from the doorman. She looked like she knew what she was doing, however, so he let her pass. _Crazy rich Americans_, he thought. _But they do tip well_. He hoped she was an American.

Once inside, she took a deep breath and marched over to the counter, only to stop halfway in the lobby. He hadn't given her the alias he was going by. Shit. She swore under her breath. How was she going to find him? Loiter in the lobby for the rest of the night? The hell she was. She moved to the door, only to see a familiar fedora sitting with a cup of coffee and a newspaper at the bar. She sat down next to him and ordered a cup for herself.

"Been a long time, Jigen."

"Sure has. Good to know you decided to work with us again. I hate moving in London and not cutting you in on a deal." He smiled at her from under his hat.

Her almost-brother. When Lupin had moved on to bigger things, to better women, leaving her by the wayside, he was the only person she knew who had comforted her. He had even developed sort of a crush on her, offering, in his blunt American way, to marry her and make Lupin's wrongs right.

She returned the smile, giving him an affectionate one-armed hug. Her brother, her friend, and her protector when she was still living under Lupin's wing. She'd stayed in contact with him, after her tenure, and in so doing, kept up with Lupin. She truly liked this drunken, smoking, crack-shot sod of a man. He was one of her dearest friends.

She followed him up to Lupin's room after she had filled him in on all the little details of what had been happening lately. She smacked him lightly on the arm when he joked with her, and he pretended to wince. It was almost like old times. Ah, now it was like old times: there was Goemon. He sat, his back to Lupin's door, drinking sake. He rose and bowed to her.

"Good to see you again, Sachiko-chan," he murmured, using his pet name for her. Bliss-child.

She smiled at him and hugged him, scorning formality like she always had. He stiffened, like he usually did, but returned the hug, knowing how much it meant to her. She squeezed him briefly, then smacked him on his shoulder. "How come you never write?"

"I was not aware I had to write to a brat," he replied, his zen-like indifference making her grin and hit him again.

"Be that way. I guess I'll have to put the miso soup and the sake I brought inside and send it back home later, since you don't want any."

His eyes widened, but he made no move.

"It's a shame, it's Jizake, too. From your hometown, I believe." She shook her head and kept the bottle just out of his reach.

"All right, you win. I promise to write more often." He reached for the bottle, but she held it out of his grasp again.

"And?"

"…I'm sorry, Sachiko-chan." He hung his head in mock shame, then leapt for the bottle in a most undignified manner. She laughed and let him have it. Jigen stood, his hat pushed back, shaking his head. She could always draw the taciturn Goemon out of any funk he was in. It was odd. He wished sometimes she were around more often, so that talking to Goemon wasn't so hard, but…she told Lupin that she'd not come back, not for him.

But she was here now, wasn't she? Maybe…things would be different? She turned to him, her face flushed, eyes sparkling, and he felt a small stirring of disloyal rage. How could he have done that to her? He shook his head again. Lupin was Lupin; there was no other way to put it. Surely she understood that. He knew she did.

She tossed him a bottle of something, and his eyebrows rose beneath his hat. A bottle of Oban scotch! That was high-end stuff; a single bottle ran about $370.00. _She must be feeling good to present us with stuff like this_, he thought. _Maybe she's in a better mood since Lupin showed up_. That thought made him scowl.

_He'd better not hurt her again. I'll kill him this time._

* * *

He knocked on the door, swiping his card and stepping in. "Ah, good, Jigen, she's here?" Lupin stepped out of the back, a towel thrown over his shoulder. He had just finished shaving. She could smell him, a sort of insinuating fragrance that seemed to seep into her pores and make her feel like she was hot and cold at the same time.

"Who's _she_, Lupin?" came a voice form the back that really did make her blood run cold. A female voice, cold, calculating, utterly cruel. A busty, very good-looking woman with long, wavy brown hair and cold blue eyes stepped into view, making her feel dowdy and overdressed. The woman glared at her and she suddenly felt very, very alone as Jigen and Goemon drew protectively closer to her.

"Fujiko Mine, may I present to you Cara de Brouligiere."


	2. Stolen Hearts

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the 3rd fanfiction by Lywinis

Chapter Two: Stolen Hearts

"_The _Cara de Brouligiere?" Fujiko gasped. "The Ruby Princess?" She threw her arms around Lupin in a possessive hug. She seemed like an affection-starved kitten, clinging to him and nuzzling him. Cara felt slightly sick. She shifted uncomfortably, and felt Jigen move his hand discreetly to his revolver. She shook her head slightly. He wouldn't do anything. He couldn't. Lupin paid the bills.

"Lupin, you're getting me fitted for jewelry!" the slinky woman cried. "And here I thought you had forgotten all about my birthday, you sly sneak, you." Cara's sick feeling wound up in the pit of her stomach. Fujiko kissed Lupin, and she nearly turned away, nearly ran to the bathroom…. but she couldn't look away. So this was the "better things" he had told her of, vaguely, that night.

Cara got the feeling that this was what the woman, Fujiko, did…she led Lupin along by his crotch, extorting anything and everything she could. But she'd seen enough. She straightened her shoulders, the pendant at her throat sparkling almost angrily, and brushed her hair out of her face. "Actually, I'm here to help Lupin clear out the Sutton Hoo excavation site."

Fujiko looked annoyed that Cara would dare to speak in her presence. Cara returned the glare two-fold; tension suddenly descended in the room, thick and crackling. Jigen and Goemon stepped back; they had only seen Cara this angry when Lupin had told her to get her stuff and get out. The two women matching wills? They'd put their money on Cara.

Fujiko took a step forward, her whole body rigid with hostility, hands on her hips. "And what makes you think you're cut out for such work, little girl?" she demanded, casting a scornful look at Cara's clothing and her ratty tennis shoes.

Cara smirked, her stance relaxed. She glanced over at Lupin. "Shall I show her?" He nodded, the beginnings of a grin touching the corners of his mouth, making his lips twitch.

Suddenly, Cara exploded into motion, flipping over the surprised Fujiko and grabbing the woman around the neck, her slim lock-picking knife at the woman's throat. She murmured in the older woman's ear. "You know…there was a time I would have been in your position, threatened by a younger, more qualified woman…but I got out. What are you in for, hmmm? Let's just find out. And when I do, I'll blow your cover wide open, Fujiko."

Fujiko snarled and slapped the knife away. Turning, she launched a short punch at Cara's face, but her fist met nothing but empty air. Cara laughed softly, her knowing blue eyes sparkling from across the room, where she leaned against the wall.

"How do you know she won't rip us off?" she asked, turning to Lupin. Her eyes were narrow and her brows were pinched in an unappealing way. He laughed at her.

"How do we know _you _won't?" snapped Jigen, his hands clenching at his sides. "The last time you gave us a good deal was never."

Fujiko glared at Jigen, her hands going back to her hips. She wasn't afraid of _him_. "Who cares what you think, you drunken bastard? Just because she tosses you an expensive bottle of scotch, she's your best friend. You pant after her like a dog after a bitch."

"That's enough, Fujiko," Lupin stepped in. "Either you work with the team, or get out. You know the rules."

Fujiko pouted, but remained silent. Cara slipped her knife back into its forearm sheath, still smirking. Jigen noticed Lupin watching her a lot more than he should be. _But that's the thing_, he thought. _You can't **not** watch Cara_. _She has…this…aura._

Fujiko noticed, too. She wasn't pleased. _Little bitch…_

She would have to see about an untimely "fall" for Cara.

* * *

"The plan is this," said Lupin as he bent over the map of the excavation site. Cara watched, impressed, as his expressive hands swept over the map while he explained. She found herself being swept up in the lulling power of Lupin's voice once again. No, she couldn't do that…concentrate…

She and Jigen were to drive to the gates of the excavation site, where she would flash her credentials and ask to be allowed in the site to appraise the jewels. Once inside, she would lift the security guard's key and give it to Jigen, who would unlock and open the truck delivery gates. Lupin, driving an unmarked, silenced van, would load the gold with Jigen, Fujiko, and Goemon. The site where the gold was kept was watched with security cameras, but when had that ever stopped Lupin? He already had it all planned out with wafer thin screens, which had footage of the site with the gold intact on a continual loop. He and Goemon would go around and place the screens over the camera lenses and disable the skeleton security force present only at night.

Meanwhile, Cara was to go and appraise the gems, switching them with clever holograms. Lupin's team of experts had done their research. The gems each had a specific hologram, down to the last chip of diamond. The theft would, more then likely, not be noticed until they were long gone. Cara had to admit, no one had style quite like Arsene Lupin the III.

He looked at each of them in turn, his dark eyes searching out their own. "I want to make this quick and clean as possible," he began. "No shooting unless you have to, and if you have to, use your damned silencers." He looked at Fujiko, his eyes narrowing slightly in predatory hunger. "And you will be staying with me, so I don't get double-crossed this time." She swallowed and glared at him, willing him to burst into flames. Cara was glad she'd never given her former infatuation reason to mistrust her.

Lupin turned to Cara. "You can do this, right? I'm sure being the Ruby Princess has its advantages, but if you need help, we can be there in a flash." He handed her a radio, his hand lingering over hers. "We'll keep in radio contact at all times." He smiled, his eyes crinkling in the way that used to make her weak. She was surprised to find that it still did. The saying was true. You never really got over your first love.

She stuck the earpiece in her ear and nodded. "Of course I can do this, Lupin, I'm Cara, remember?" She grinned at him in acerbic self-deprecation. "I'm the one that helped you nick the crown jewels out from under Scotland Yard's nose. This is a cakewalk."

He nodded. "You've never disappointed me before, Cara. One last hurrah, eh?"

"Sure, Lupin, whatever."

* * *

Jigen pulled the sedan over to the side of the road, next to a hedge. Cara, dressed more respectably in a pantsuit and pumps, her hair coiled at the nape of her neck, moved to the back seat, the walkie-talkie stashed in her purse and the earpiece in her ear. She had a letter of introduction that was forged with her father's signature, her credentials, and her jewelry examination kit, along with the holograms, in a sleek briefcase. Even Fujiko had to admit, she was beautiful when she cleaned up. Cara was all business, playing her part as the heiress of the Brouligiere throne to perfection.

He turned around and pushed his fedora up on his forehead with his thumb. "You know Fujiko won't let you get away clean with your take, Cara."

"I know."

"Well, then, damn it, let me protect you!"

Her eyebrow arched and a slow smile spread across her face. She patted Jigen's cheek with a gentle hand, her eyes taking on the gleam of a hunting cat's. "There's nothing Fujiko can try that hasn't been tried before. Trust me, being a rich heiress is more dangerous than being Lupin's partner." Her knife flickered into view, and was gone again. "I'll take care of her if she chooses to make her move."

He sighed and turned around, his heart aching for the loss of her innocence. He knew he was partly to blame, and the mutinous part of his brain that kept whispering disloyal things about Lupin to him…the part of him that was only there for the money. Part of him wanted to turn the car around, drop Cara at her house, and take her inside and make sure she was treated well.

He turned into the excavation site's driveway.

Cara acted according to plan, charming the security guard for all she was worth, flashing a dazzling smile and her letter of introduction. In a few minutes, the advance team was well on their way to completing step one. Cara murmured the go ahead into her lapel pin, fitted with a hidden mike by Lupin. Jigen looked up at the ridge of stone that surrounded the site, saw a flashlight blink once, and nodded.

Smooth, quick and quiet.

Once inside, they were directed to a squat, unremarkable building near the center of the site. Dusk was just falling, but the scientists had been busy for weeks, working day and night to clear the new discovery from the earth. A visit by one of the museum's leading supporters at this hour was uncommon, but no cause for alarm. The Brouligieres were known for being eccentric, and besides, her father shelled out enormous amounts of money to the bloody museum, so why not show up to see how the work was progressing? She smiled; it was too easy.

Smoothing her features as a man approached, she settled into her business-like manner once again. Jigen got out of the car and held the door for her, like a good chauffer should. She stepped out with a sly wink to him and walked over to the approaching man.

He was in his late thirties, tall, trim and weathered. He regarded her with light green eyes that crinkled into a smile as she approached. He extended a work-roughened hand, flipping his auburn hair out of his eyes with his other, and she took it boldly into her own, shaking it without fear.

"Ms. Brouligiere, my name is Kenneth Foley, I'm the supervising archaeologist for the dig. It's nice to see our monetary backers showing interest in our little project, let me tell you." He smiled again, and led her inside. Jigen went back to the front seat of the sedan to wait it out, his thoughts spinning in disloyal turmoil, edging him toward Cara even more as he watched her work the scientist over, her smiles often and interested.

Kenneth led her deep into the complex, the twists and turns of the maze of hallways dizzying. Cara kept a mental map in her head of where she was going, and the security station's location. She chatted easily with Kenneth ("Call me Ken, please, I sound more like a museum piece than a person if you call me Kenneth."), giving details of what she knew about Sutton Hoo and obviously impressing him with her knowledge. He was completely oblivious to the fact that she carried a snub-nosed pistol in her purse, and that she would not hesitate to put a bullet in his brain if things went awry. She preferred them that way.

He opened a final door marked "Section 64-C" and strolled inside, pausing at the entrance to put on a pair of surgical gloves. Turning to her, he held out a smaller pair, which she slipped on.

"This is where we keep the pieces that would interest you, Ms. Brouligiere," he said, indicating the tables and drawers that lined the walls. "All of the gems that were recovered from the second boat have been kept in this room."

She nodded, then, smacked a gloved hand to her forehead. "Oh, dear, I seem to have forgotten my briefcase. Let me run and go get it, and then I'll help you with the appraisal." He nodded, and she hurried out, leaving the gloves behind.

She stopped at the security station, seemingly to ask directions, and left with the gate keys in her slim fingers. The guard went back to his soccer game on the radio, oblivious to the theft.

Jigen was leaning against the car door, smoking, when she came back out. "I thought you were never going to come out," he complained impatiently. She grinned at him and tossed him the keys, snagging her tools from the back seat and walking back inside. He sighed and left her to her work.

Lupin was waiting.

* * *

"Damn it, where is she?" Fujiko slumped against the lumpy seat of the van. She was tired of waiting out here in the countryside like some damned flunky. She wanted to see some action – and some gold. "I'm telling you Lupin, if she's double-crossed us –"

"-- Then Jigen wouldn't be driving up the road to meet us," Goemon replied calmly, leaping down from the top of the truck's cab, where he had been meditating. He pointed to the pinpoints of headlights in the valley below.

Indeed, Jigen pulled up a few minutes later. "Come on, let's get the show on the road," he muttered, his hat pulled over his eyes and a cigarette dangling from his lips. He got out of the sedan and leapt into the back of the truck, banging on the side with the butt of his revolver.

Lupin revved the engine, humming quietly down the road. In his earpiece, he listened with a smile as she gave the man – Kenneth Foley, he thought, what a silly name – appraisals on the gems as she switched them. He wiped the smile from his face as he pulled up to the gate, the guards both glued to the crime show they were watching. He hopped down out of the truck, his cap pushed back on his head and his oily, sweat-stained overalls seeming faded in the harsh glare from the truck's headlights. He jammed a clipboard under the nose of the nearest guard.

"Oi, what's all this, then?" The guard asked, annoyed by Lupin's impertinence. He glanced at the clipboard, unimpressed. "Delivery for the hoity-toity scientists? Big deal. I never heard of no delivery, so bugger off." He turned back to his television.

Lupin banged the clipboard down on the counter, making both guards jump. Screeching at them in his best Cockney, he proceeded to belabor the point about how hard working blue-collar men like himself couldn't get a decent day's work done because of higher ups who couldn't do their jobs. He shouted he wanted to see the supervisor. The two guards looked nervously at each other, then the rude one waved them through, punching the gate's opening mechanism.

Fujiko smiled at him as he hopped back into the cab. "You know, you sounded like an angry fishwife."

"Well, I guess it fits, what with you being catty." She glared at him.

The truck hummed to a stop in front of a passageway dug into the earth. A huge pit loomed out before them, hollowed into the earth by curious archaeologists. Floodlights made the whole area glow as Lupin, Jigen, Goemon and Fujiko all climbed out of the truck. They began unloading empty boxes marked 'tools' onto handcarts, moving the crates into the housing where the gold was kept. Except for the guards who watched the perimeter and the security cameras, the place was deserted for the night. One slash from Goemon's Zantetsuken took the doorknob off the storage unit, and they all hurried inside. While Goemon and Fujiko loaded up the gold, Lupin installed a new doorknob and Jigen kept a look out, checking his watch every few minutes.

Almost as soon as the gold was loaded, Cara murmured into the radio that she was on her way out. The entire operation had taken less than two hours. Jigen hopped off the truck as soon as they reached the sedan and took off to go pick Cara up. She was waiting for him, chatting easily with the charmed Foley. As he opened the door for her, Foley assured her that everything was in order and that her appraisals had been most helpful. He even asked her out to dinner. Jigen's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. She politely declined, smiling at him and brushing him off with a gentle, "Perhaps another time."

Sliding into the back seat finally, she let out a heavy sigh. "I'm getting too old for this." Jigen shrugged; he didn't know if she meant stealing, or fending off men. She laughed at his noncommittal response. They drove back to the Commodore in companionable silence, Jigen humming a little and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

The hotel room was unoccupied. She knew Lupin and the others were stashing the gold, and she slipped off her pumps and wriggled her toes appreciatively. Sitting on the loveseat in the sitting room, she accepted the glass of juice Jigen offered. Setting her briefcase on the table, she rested her chin in her palm, suddenly very tired. The years had been kind to her. _What a morbid thought_, she mused. _I'm only twenty-five…I have a few years ahead of me, if I'm lucky._ She played with her pendant, noting Jigen's silhouette outside on the balcony, the lit tip of his Pall Mall extra long glowing in the chill air.

She was shaken awake seemingly a few minutes later, a smiling Lupin holding out another glass, this one filled with champagne. "For such good work, I must commend you, my dear," he said. Fujiko sulked in the corner.

"Hm? I didn't do anything," she murmured.

"You got all of the jewels, didn't you?"

"That was business." She set down the champagne, favoring her orange juice.

"True enough. Well, then, let's see your take." He gestured to the locked briefcase, to which only she had the combination.

She spun out the combination of the sleek leather case, opening it reverently. There they were, over seven billion dollars worth of gems and set jewelry, hidden in a secret compartment. Lupin crowed in sheer delight. Even Fujiko was grudgingly impressed. She hadn't missed a single diamond chip.

"So, on to the division of spoils," he said, running his hands over the stones. "Cara, you can take as many of the gemstones as you like, or you can have all of your sum in gold, which will be wired to your account in Switzerland, like in the old days."

Fujiko made a small sound of protest. "She didn't _do_ anything, not really! All she did was steal some jewelry; you had me out there busting my ass lifting _boxes_! That's hardly fair!"

Lupin glanced at Fujiko, his eyes snapping with mirth. "Fuji-cakes, you know we're getting to you, you get a large share of the spoils as well. In fact, we're all pretty wealthy right about now. But Cara's credentials got us in, instead of me having to bust our way in. We got in, quick and quiet. If not, we would have had Pops breathing down our necks," he explained patiently. He had gone over this with her earlier, when everyone else was busy securing his or her tools for the job ahead. She still had to bring it up, as a matter of personality.

Cara shrugged, her head aching. "You can have the jewels. Just send my share to the Switzerland account." She put her head in her hand again, not really in the mood to hear the harpy who had taken her place bickering about who got how much. She glanced at Jigen and noted he was propped in almost the exact same way, except his bottle of Oban was nearly halfway empty. She felt a surge of pity for her two friends.

But Lupin paid the bills, and so Lupin made the rules.

Standing, she made a show of stretching. "I think I'll change and head home, Lupin, if you don't mind. Nice working with you again."

"You too, Cara. You sure you don't want to…?" Again the question, and again the denial.

"No, you know my answer to that, Lupin. See you around."

She changed and hugged Goemon and Jigen goodbye, then nodded cordially to Fujiko. Lupin brooded out on the balcony. Nothing was left to be said. At least not on Cara's part. Fujiko stepped outside for a moment to speak with her.

"You did well," she grudgingly admitted.

"So did you. We all worked as a team, I guess," Cara replied. She shifted in her sneakers, uncomfortable next to this woman who had groomed herself to be the envy of all women and the carnal desire of all men. She nodded at Fujiko again. "It…was nice working with you, even if you don't care for me too much."

Fujiko returned the nod. "For what it's worth, see you around." She extended a hand, and Cara took it, shaking it firmly.

Fujiko watched Cara walk away, a strange smile on her face.

* * *

Cara let herself in by the front door, too tired to climb the rose trellis outside the house to get into the library window. Glancing at the clock, she was surprised to see that it was nearly midnight.

Her father dozed in the library. She covered him with a blanket, a small gesture of affection she couldn't help, despite her dislike for the man sometimes.

A voice made her whirl around, her eyes widening.

"Hello again, Cara."

Zenigata was seated in the corner, his coat and hat on the table next to him; a pair of handcuffs was spinning on his index finger.


	3. The Inquisition, What a Show

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis

Chapter Three: The Inquisition, What a Show…

Cara swallowed her fear and settled for righteous indignation instead. "Who the hell do you think you are, Pops? Barging in on my father like this. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, old man."

He smiled, his eyes boring into her. She resisted the urge to ask if he were cock-eyed. "Your father asked me to stay. I told him I needed to speak with you…about a personal matter. He was delighted to let me stay, once I flashed the badge, that is."

"Well, stop sitting there like an overgrown vulture and come into the kitchen," she snapped. "I'll get a beer and we can discuss whatever it is you want to know. Please make it quick, it's been a very long night."

"I'll bet," Zenigata muttered at her retreating back. "I'll also bet you won't be so thirsty once you hear what I have to say." He truly respected this woman; she was the only one who had ever bested Lupin and gotten away scot-free. He would have asked her to aid in his investigation, but she would have never helped. He was a cop, she was a cat burglar…it was simple as that. He grabbed his hat and coat and followed her into the kitchen.

The Brouligiere kitchen was clean; in fact, clean was putting it mildly. It was spotless. Every surface was antiseptic. It made her want to sweep the utensils and plates to the floor, to make a mess every time she stepped into it. She resisted the urge, grabbing a Killian's out of the fridge and popping the top off the bottle with a flick of her slim wrist. Zenigata had seen her do the same thing to a man's neck. He swallowed slowly, declining the beverage she offered him. She turned her chair around and straddled it, while he took a seat opposite her.

"So, spill it," she said irritably, taking a swig of her beer.

"We know about the heist on the Sutton Hoo excavation site," Zenigata began. She grunted, shrugging, as if to say, "And I care why…?" He went on, plowing ahead because she was the only lead he had for Lupin. "I also know for a fact, by way of scientist Kenneth Foley, that you were there that night."

"So," he said, drawing out the moment, his slightly off-kilter grin seeming harsh and more than a little crazy, "see Lupin tonight?"

"No." She set the bottle onto the table with an audible thump. "I've been out of the racket for years, Pops. Lupin wouldn't come looking for me, and you know it. We…left on uncomfortable terms. You're just an obsessed old man looking for leads on a case you should never have taken in the first place." She smirked at the way his eyebrows beetled when he scowled. "I was there on a professional level, that's all."

Cara knew she had gone too far with her "obsessed old man" remark, but she pressed on, her voice dangerously quiet. "And the next time you flash a badge at my father in his own house, I'll make sure you're drinking that nasty ramen of yours through a straw for the next three months. You were out of line."

Cara was the only one of Lupin's gang that Zenigata truly feared…and respected more than a bit. She glared at him now, and he shrank back a little; the woman was well known for her violent temper, and he had been on the receiving end of that temper at one point. He hadn't been able to walk straight for three days. He brought out his handcuffs, slowly inching them within striking distance, then leapt toward her, slapping the cuff on her wrist. She gave him a tired look.

"Can't this wait till tomorrow?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Hell no. You think I'm going to let you get away? Don't be stupid!"

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Pops." And, true to her nature and training, she slipped out of the cuffs. He goggled at her. "What, you thought Lupin was the only one who was double jointed? He's not the only kinky one of the old group, not by far."

He turned a beet red, the color flushing up the back of his neck. "Hold still, damnit!"

"Not a chance." But she stood still amiably, allowing him to get close to her, and right as he was about to slap the cuffs on her again, she ducked under him and flipped him onto his back. He landed with an "Oof!" and a groan as his back protested. She made a break for the door, darting out into the cold night.

She didn't get very far. A bright spotlight was on her almost as soon as the door opened, and a heavy blow came down on the back of her head. She crumpled, not expecting the strike, and collapsed semi-conscious to the pavement. Her entire body felt numb, and her mind flashed back to the conversation she had with Jigen in the sedan.

"_You know Fujiko won't let you get away clean with your take, Cara."_

"_I know."_

"_Well then, damn it, let me protect you!"_

Damn Lupin. Damn him to hell.

Her world faded…

* * *

She woke up slowly, the Scotland Yard cell cold and foreign. Her wrists were sore from where she had been cuffed during transport. At least, she assumed that was why they were red and swollen. She staggered over to the toilet by the window and vomited. Wiping her mouth violently, she looked out the window, her blue eyes burning with malice. Outside her barred window, it was a typical London day: rainy. 

She'd be damned if she ever worked with them again. They were all nothing but trouble. Hell, she would bet all of her nonexistent inheritance that Jigen and Goemon knew about the sting operation on her house, but hadn't bothered to inform her. She was expendable, after all. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. She spat again. It wasn't just the aftertaste.

She rinsed her mouth with brackish water as she made her plans. It made her sick, made her insides clench and roil with pent up hatred and anger. Her fingers wound around each other and she made three silent promises to herself. Had one been able to see the mental chalkboard she set up for herself, it might look a little like this:

One: Never trust any man ever again.

Two: Get out of jail without scandal to her father.

Three: Come out of this on top of Arsene Lupin III.

She swore it. She would come out on top, and grind that little monkey-faced bastard into the dust.

* * *

Her cell door clanged open about three days after her bail hearing. Set at over three hundred thousand pounds, she knew no one would have the scratch to spring her. She watched the floor as she heard her father's steady tread on the concrete. He stopped next to her, and for the first time in his life, seemed uncertain as to what he should do. He coughed nervously and folded his arms behind his back. 

"Yes, Papa?"

"I've come to take you home."

"I'm not going."

"Impossible. Your bail will be paid shortly, and they took me on honor that you would attend your trial."

"I'm not going, Papa. I'm going to stay here and face the music."

He looked flabbergasted. "You mean, you would do that, even when you told the Inspector that you had no part in the robbery?"

"You were eavesdropping again, Papa," she noted mildly.

"It's my damn house, I'll listen to whatever conversation I want to." She raised an eyebrow at the expletive; Alphonse de Brouligiere never swore, not even in times of extreme stress.

To his surprise, she broke the silence with something that should have swelled his pride, but didn't. "I'm sorry." Her bloodshot and bruised eyes stayed on the floor the entire time.

"For what? For not allowing me into your life, and allowing me to help you? You are twenty-five years old, Cara, and an adult in your own right. I am just a meddling old fool. But you are still considerate enough to bow to most of my tyrannical whims and orders, even when you have enough money in your trust fund to move to a different place."

"You were there, Papa, I couldn't let you live by yourself, even if you are a crotchety old bastard." She smiled slightly at his gruff chuckle. "I may not like you, but you're still my Papa. I'm somewhat obligated to love you."

He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Well, if you feel that you must stay, then you must. My lawyer will help you, and you will surely come out on top of this one."

"Papa, I have a feeling that that is exactly what is going to happen."

* * *

The trial would take place shortly after. It was a media circus, as was to be expected when someone as rich as the Brouligieres were caught in scandalous turmoil. She knew she would be shunned and not allowed back into polite society, but she had never had any use for polite society in the first place. She chalked it up as an acceptable loss. 

The lawyer, Marco Pellini, was as Machiavellian and sly as one could have hoped. He was the best that money could buy, in Italy and all across Europe. He stared hard at her across the mahogany desk, his eyes barely leaving her cleavage to acknowledge the brain that resided above. She instantly disliked the man, but he was the biggest shark in the legal sea at the moment, and so she put what trust she had to give in his abilities. At the moment, he was going over the details of that night.

"So, Ms. Brouligiere, you were in the office with Mr. Foley the entire time?" he asked for the millionth time, his ballpoint pen tapping on his legal pad.

She resisted the urge to scream and shook her head. "No, I went out briefly, to get my tools and briefcase from the back of the car. My driver was leaning against the door and smoking, so I told him to go on break until I called for him, which was a few hours later, around ten o'clock or so. I stopped afterward at a bar, had a few drinks and mingled, then I got home about midnight to find the Inspector sitting in the library. I offered him a drink and he declined, accusing me of stealing the entire jewel library of the Sutton Hoo excavation site, along with several tons of gold."

"What happened next? Was the Inspector in his right mind at the time?"

"No, he seemed a little off-kilter. He kept getting a glazed look in his eye and accused me of partnering up with a Mr. Lupin. I was outraged, and then he slapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists, saying he wouldn't let me get away. I defended myself, flipping the man onto his back and bolting out of the door to go and call the police. To my dismay, the police had surrounded my house. I was struck on the back of the head with a blunt object, and the next thing I knew, I was in a Scotland Yard cell, awaiting trial for a crime I did not commit."

"Mmm, obviously not a fair trial," came the voice, but the eyes never left the cleavage. Good lord, this man was more lecherous than Lupin! And here she thought such a thing couldn't possibly exist. She glared at him, making him meet her eyes for once. He smirked at her. "I think I can help you, Ms. Brouligiere. But in return, I'll want something from you." His eyes raked her chest.

She glared at him again, her hands on her well-formed hips. "Surely you realize that there is no way in hell I will agree to your demands, Mr. Pellini? My father is already paying you quite a handsome retainer, and if you think I'll grant you any…sexual favors, you're quite out of your reputedly brilliant mind."

He laughed at her. She studied his face, and her suspicions were confirmed. His eyes were crinkling at the corners, and not just any crinkling. That could mean only one thing. She reached out an impeccably manicured hand, grabbed his hair at the hairline, and pulled. He gave a yelp, and then his face came off.

Lupin sat there, looking like the proverbial kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He rubbed the back of his neck, abashed. "Guess you caught me."

"How could I not? You're too damn obvious with your disguises. I thought Pepé and Henrìk were better with their faces?"

He shrugged. "They were on vacation. I had to improvise."

It was her turn to smirk. "The master thief is caught by the pupil. Not bad."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, it was a lucky break."

"It was your attitude that gave you away, you know."

"You wish."

She glared at him. "So what brings you to my lawyer's office? Come to give a signed statement that I do not work for you and never have?"

"Hardly, although your duplicity never ceases to amaze me, dear heart. I've come to tell you that Fujiko double-crossed you. Your bank account in Switzerland has been cleaned out."

"What!" She grabbed him by his jacket lapels, yanking him up to eye level with her. "How in the hell did she get my account number and verification code?"

"I…sort of…let her have it?"

"You DID WHAT!" She was livid. "How could you be so brainless? For a master thief, you sure are stupid."

He scowled. "Name-calling will get you only so far, Cara. Normally, I love it when a woman talks dirty to me, but this is uncalled for."

"I'll tell you what's uncalled for. Trusting you, Lupin. After what you did to me, I should have left well enough alone. But I didn't, I thought maybe you'd grown up and grown out of that whore of a girlfriend. I was wrong, and now I'm paying the price for it. I'll do jail time if I have to, but know this: if I ever see you again, I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your brain."

He was up and around the desk in a blink of the eye. He grabbed her by the forearms, jerking her towards him. His lips crushed themselves against hers, and she could do nothing about it. Although Lupin was unusually wiry, he was strong when he needed to be. She tried not to be swept away be her hormones, she even got up her knee to jab at his groin, but a skillfully placed thigh took the brunt of her blow. His tongue probed at her lips, seeking entry, but she held herself stiffly against him.

At least, for the first few seconds that was. Her arms swept up his chest and around his neck, her eyes closing. She tried to draw away, but Lupin, always Lupin, kept her right where he wanted her. Her thoughts swirled around themselves in a tangled jumble, but they soon mattered little as a haze swept over her vision and she sought more of his kiss. Lupin had always been a skillful kisser. She had never let him get farther than that, and surprisingly, he respected her for that.

His arms wrapped around her, one across the small of her back, one across her shoulders, holding her to him so he could drink his fill. He came up for air, breaking off the kiss suddenly. She looked back at him, dazed and confused.

"What are you after now, Lupin?" Her voice was low and husky, the beginnings of a bedroom voice he never knew she had. He nearly attacked her lips again, but he held himself back.

"Right now? Just you."

"Do all your women fall for that line?"

"Only the good ones."

"Sorry to disappoint, then."

He laughed flippantly. "Fujicakes, nothing could—" He stopped, his eyes widening in horror as hers narrowed in anger and hurt.

She shoved him away, a desperate need to get away from him fueling her arms. He slammed against the desk, sliding over a corner and onto the floor.

He stood and walked over to her hunched form, trying to comfort her and right his slip. Her hand knifed up and across his cheek, and had slashed back against her side before his brain even registered he'd been slapped. He put his hand to his throbbing cheek and decided he'd deserved that.

"Cara—"

"I don't want to hear it, Lupin."

"But—"

She was already gone, the door swinging silently shut behind her.

* * *

She sat in her Scotland Yard cell, awaiting trial. She had decided she would defend herself, relying on the years before cat burglary, when she had been an aspiring law student at Oxford. Before Lupin…before dropping out. She had a law book in front of her, open to a passage about a case in America that had been dropped because of insufficient evidence. _That O.J. Simpson chap had had a good lawyer_, she thought to herself. _It's too bad he's not certified in London. I could use his help._

Her head was aching, but she pressed on, making meticulous notes on a yellow legal pad. Her eyes began to water, when finally a guard came to her cell. It was none other than Zenigata.

"Time to go, my little chickadee," he called gaily to her.

"Go fuck yourself, Pops," she muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"That's right, it had better be nothing, cause you're already in deeper trouble than you can even imagine."

"Pops?"

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favor and shut it, would you?"

He puffed himself up in indignation, but a second officer arrived to unlock the cell. He tipped his hat to her apologetically and cuffed her, leading her out of the cold cell and out of sight. Zenigata swore and patted his trench coat pockets. He needed a cigarette.

Cara chuckled to herself as she was led down to a squad car through a sea of reporters. They screamed questions at her from every side, but she used her breeding to its advantage and stuck her nose in the air. Another officer carried her briefcase for her, and she was seated in the back with a polite nod from both of them. She smiled at the gentlemen in blue, and a dozen flashbulbs went off, illuminating her pale and drawn features for the cover of the evening newspapers.

It was going to be an interesting trial.

* * *

She demanded that she be allowed a trial in the United States, and after much deliberation, she was extradited. Her mother had been an American, and she had been born on American soil. Only after her mother had died did she move in with her father at his London house. She shook her head at the insecure, afraid child that had moved into the house at thirteen and had remained into her late twenties. What a change she had made. 

Her eyes were drawn to clouds outside of her window. Zenigata snored beside her, his complimentary alcohol wasting him completely. She shook her head as he rolled onto her shoulder and tried to drool on her. Lightweight.

The plane had been in the air nearly four hours, and it would be about sixteen more before it landed, but she couldn't sleep. She could, however, stick airline peanuts up Pops' nose to amuse herself. He lay with his head back now, snoring up a storm. She popped open the peanuts they had given her earlier, took aim, and fired. A perfect shot; it sailed through the space between them and into his left nostril. His snoring changed slightly in pitch, which was pretty funny to her. She stifled her giggles as he looked around sleepily, then turned in his chair, falling back into slumber. She had to be going crazy…all she could think of were new ways to torture the beleaguered inspector.

She turned to her side, opposite him. Well, she tried to. The handcuffs that connected them didn't allow for much privacy. She was sick of this. She expertly cracked her knuckles and slipped out again. Much better. Turning to her side, she dozed as the plane soared over the Atlantic.

Zenigata grumbled about her slipping her cuffs, but he was slightly confused by how she didn't try to bolt as soon as the plane landed. He wondered if she was all right, but he was still pretty miffed that she had cuffed him to his chair. He also had this nagging sinus infection, one that seemed to be just in his left nostril. He tried his hanky, but it was no good. He disliked flight; it always screwed with your system.

She chuckled at him when he blew his nose in Customs. "What are you snickering at, delinquent?" He was not about to take any guff about how he was getting old and sick.

"Nothing." She tried not to look at the snot-encrusted peanut, but it mocked her, and she nearly burst out in guffaws. Zenigata looked at her wildly contorting face for a moment, then growled and barreled them through O'Hare.

"Ah, Inspector Zenigata, so nice to meet you." A man was striding through the crowd towards them, his hand out. Zenigata took it, and then realized he still had his hanky in that hand. The other gentleman didn't seem to mind, as he was looking Cara over with a mixture of disgust and anger. "So, she's the one causing all the trouble for the scientists of Sutton Hoo. What a shame."

She stood defiantly and stared him down. He was about six feet tall, and looked like he weighed no more than 185 pounds. Blue eyes, chestnut hair just beginning to salt and pepper…he was a fireplace lawyer, it looked like. She put on her coldest glare for him, and was satisfied to see him flinch. "What, are you, cock-eyed, or something?" she said, the contempt in her voice audible and dripping, even in the noisy airport. "What are you staring at, Yank? You have a problem?"

"No problem, I just like to know who I'm putting behind bars, Ms. Brouligiere."

Zenigata shuffled his feet. "Cara, this is, uh, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't catch your name—"

"It's Gregory Callahan, Inspector, and I'm the prosecuting attorney for Ms. Brouligiere's case. You also have a peanut up your nose, did you know?"

Zenigata swiped at the offending nut, yelping as it came free. He glared at Cara, but she was too busy to notice, locked into a staring match with Callahan. He looked back and forth between the two, noting the palpable hatred. He decided to get Cara as far away from this one as possible, or she'd be likely to slip her cuffs and kick his ass.

He shuttled her away, Cara unwilling to break eye contact. Callahan gave her a sarcastic salute with his fore and middle fingers, sweeping them in a jaunty salute; she responded by flipping him her middle.

Callahan chuckled to himself as he walked out to his car. The snow was beginning to fall, signaling the beginning of the Christmas season. The perfect time to start and end a trial quickly. The judge, eager to be off with his family or his mistress, depending on whom they got to hear the trial, would demand a prompt decision.

He slid into the Buick, the engine already running, and turned to look at the chestnut-haired woman next to him.

"How did it go?"

"According to plan. She hates my guts."

"She'll hate them even more when she finds out who you're really working for."

"But that won't be until the end of the trial." He ran a hand up the inside of her creamy thigh.

She smiled indulgently at him. "Of course not. I always keep my promises."

"Yes, Fujiko, you certainly do."

* * *

Author's Note: Finally, right? Heh, I know. For my reviewers, all two of you...thank you. You helped me along the way, because without you, I never would have gotten my lazy ass in gear to get this done. 

Next chapter will be up soon, I promise. This is a long chapter, however, and hopefully you'll be entretained. _Ciao!_

Lywinis


	4. Trials of the Mind, Body, and Spirit

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis

Chapter Four: Trials of the Mind, Body, and Spirit

Goemon was worried. Sachiko-chan had been in the papers for weeks now, and no one even bothered to comment. Lupin would look at the front page of the paper, then shove it aside with a grunt. Jigen looked as worried as the samurai. Fujiko was walking around with a rather self-satisfied smile these days. Goemon was sure the jealous woman had something to do with it.

There was no contact with the young woman awaiting trial. Pops had her, and he was using her to get to Lupin. Goemon had sat down to pen her a message many times, then had gotten up to do something else, because the words wouldn't come. His calligraphy brushes failed him. Usually he could pen a haiku in code, or a symbolic drawing, but all he could see was Sachiko-chan in danger. He nearly snarled to himself as he sat on the rooftop meditating.

_Transcend, samurai, _came the voice of his master. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and sat quietly, in search of enlightenment. Her face swam in front of his eyes. He willed it away. It came back, that mischievous grin as she held up the bottle of sake. He willed it away again. She kept coming back, more and more. The more often she came back, the more often she wore an accusing face, as if to say "Why, Goemon? Why didn't you do anything?"

_Transcend! _snapped the voice of his master. He tried to concentrate, and then finally sighed in resignation. Footsteps approached as he did, and his keen ears told him Lupin was looking for advice.

"What is it, Lupin?"

Lupin leaned against the railing of the rooftop balcony, popping a cigarette from a crumpled package in his pocket. That was so unlike Lupin; normally he had a case. The Gitane Caporals he held looked like they had resided in his jacket for quite some time. The samurai knew how much Lupin paid to import them, and he also knew he carried a case, but a lot about Lupin looked disheveled nowadays. He hadn't shaved in about a week, from Goemon's perspective.

"Did we lose our way somewhere, Goemon?" Lupin asked, his voice slightly muffled by the filter between his lips. Goemon didn't answer; he stared at the sunset, waiting patiently for Lupin to get his thoughts in order. Lupin puffed his cigarette into life and stood staring at the sunset.

"I keep thinking I've failed as a gentleman. Like Cara was more than anything I could have ever wanted and needed, and I threw her away. Not once, but twice." He put his hands behind his back and slumped his shoulders. "I think I failed in one of my most cardinal rules. But…Fujiko is all I've known for so long." He took a long drag on the cigarette and held it for a few moments, finally expelling the acrid smoke with a sigh.

Goemon studied his friend's jacketed back. He waited a few moments, trying to think of a suitably comforting word. Lupin smoked in silence.

"You do as you will, because that is how you have been and how you always will be. You feel you are bound by your morals, and so you are. If you want to right your wrong, then for Buddha's sake, have some dignity about it! You've let yourself go, Lupin."

Lupin looked at the unusually stern samurai. "What's got your kimono in a knot, Goemon?"

"What do you think? Cara sits in prison right now for something she had a minor part in. You stepped in to do something, and ended up coming back with a bruised face. You did or said something that made her so angry she refused your help."

Lupin looked at his feet, the cigarette smoldering quietly on the rail beside him. "I know. What else can I do?" _Other than impersonating the judge_, he thought to himself.

That was it. He straightened, a glimmer of the old creative fire back in his eyes. "Are Pepé and Henrìk back from vacation?"

"I don't know. Ask Jigen, he's their contact."

Lupin strode off, a man with a purpose. Goemon watched him go, then settled himself more comfortably on the rooftop. He found, to his surprise, that his calm state of mind had returned, and that meditation came easily.

* * *

Jigen flipped irritably through the newspaper, looking for something that _wasn't _about the Brouligiere scandal. He sighed and settled in for his daily dose of torture. He began to read. 

_**Brouligiere Woman Charged with Jewel Robbery!**_

_…Earlier this month, Cara de Brouligiere, the famed "Ruby Princess" was charged by Inspector Koichi Zenigata of Interpol with the robbery of the Sutton Hoo burial excavation site. Apparently a cat burglar of longtime standing and reputation, Brouligiere stole out the gems in the cleaning room, then removed several tons of gold from the actual burial site. Inspector Zenigata had this to say on his current apprehension of the woman: "Brouligiere is just an accomplice. The real threat here, the one with the connections and the one who is still running free, is Arsene Lupin! I hope he's reading this right now, so he can see that I'm right on his tail!"_

_The prosecuting lawyer, Mr. Gregory Callahan, had no comment. Ms. Brouligiere's trial is set for the twenty third of December 2005._

The object of Zenigata's wrath stormed through the door and into the sitting room. Jigen looked up idly, and wished he had more of the Oban Cara had given him. His hands itched. Lupin stood in front of him, waiting to get the gunman's attention. Jigen paged through the paper, his hat crammed down over his eyes. Lupin and Jigen's friendship had been on the rocks ever since word of Cara's arrest had gotten to them. Jigen wasn't about to break his stony silence, but he wouldn't stop participating in Lupin's daredevil robberies. He liked the money, just not the man at the moment.

Lupin was patient, Jigen noted sarcastically. He waited a whole five minutes before he yanked the paper away from the gunman. He hunkered down, and Jigen's hands itched even more when the thief was eye level with him. "Jigen, I know you're mad at me right now, but I need to know if Pepé and Henrìk are back from vacation."

They had gotten back about three days ago, in fact, but Jigen was pissed at Lupin, and so he said nothing. Jigen nodded now, however, wondering about the look in Lupin's eyes. Lupin grabbed Jigen by the shoulders and quickly outlined the plan. Jigen sat back and pushed his hat up with a casual flick of the thumb.

"Lupin, you are one crazy bastard. But yeah, I like it."

Lupin grinned and called Goemon in. They didn't have much time.

* * *

Fujiko disliked Chicago. She didn't just dislike it; she _hated_ it. It was cold, windy, and it made her sneeze. She was swearing in a steady stream under her breath as she pulled her rental car into the parking space in front of the courthouse. Why did people live where it was so _cold_? She decided it was one of those mysteries of life she wasn't meant to understand. 

She sat in the car with the engine running for a few minutes, savoring the heat, then grabbed her purse and nearly ran into the warm lobby of the courthouse. The bailiff, a man barely out of boyhood stared at her legs as she walked by; she tipped him a suggestive wink. It was merely natural for Fujiko. She'd been at it for so long, she barely even registered she'd done it anymore. Making her way into the courtroom, she flashed a special pass Callahan had given her, allowing her to sit in the back. She was going to enjoy this.

Her hair was dyed a fiery red, the ruddy tones blending well with her natural hair color. Her green contact lenses and the smattering of cosmetic freckles she'd applied made her look as if she'd stepped out of an Irish propaganda pamphlet. She flipped her elegant new hairstyle out of her eyes and settled down to watch the proceedings. They would begin shortly. It was a shame she wasn't able to bring popcorn in; she would have liked a snack. She nearly laughed aloud at the smug thought.

Cara had been a liability. She had gotten in the way of her biggest target, and the only one she repeatedly struck: Lupin. She didn't like rivals in her territory. It was a shame, really; she could have grown to like the other woman, but Cara had to get in the way. She saw how they looked at each other. She had no illusions about her relationship with Lupin; why should Cara be any different? Hell, Cara probably had him on his knees begging for her even after she was gone, the way he mooned after her during the heist.

Her lip curled into an ugly sneer, and she hastily smoothed her face. No wrinkles. Her body and her beauty were the only weapons she had that really made any difference. Still, she couldn't help that grimace, especially thinking about Cara with Lupin. She knew he had other women, just like she had other men. But it was a slap in the face to have one brought in as an accomplice. It violated her territory.

She nodded to Callahan as he passed. He tipped her a wink of her own and a small smirk of possession as he made his way up to the prosecuting attorney's table. She sighed inwardly. It was a shame she'd have to kill him after this. He was a bright young attorney, and he had a lot of potential. But he knew who she was, and he obviously expected more than the usual favors that men in power wanted. She couldn't, wouldn't be tied down. She had riches to gain and men to squash. It was in her blood, and she was what she was: a creature of habit.

She wondered briefly who the judge was. Putting it out of her mind, she decided she'd either bribe or sleep with him later to tip the scales even more in her favor. Folding her arms over her low-cut blouse, she waited.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Zenigata paced. He knew it was almost trial time, and he was nervous about the part he would have to play in the conviction of Cara de Brouligiere.Her old man had leaned on his commanding officer at Interpol; Brouligiere was a name with weight. He was sure that if she got convicted, it would be the end of his career as a detective and back to Takahata and his beat as a regular officer of the law. He pulled his Shinseis out of his inner pocket and lit one up, puffing nervously. 

Either way, this would end badly. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his greasy and tangled hair. He knew he looked like crap; he'd been on the road and up for weeks now, and had had very little sleep. Sighing out a plume of bluish smoke, he looked out at the coming storm. Snow would pile up, causing traffic jams and even power outages. He knew the judge, wanting to get out of here early, would ask the jury to make a quick yet fair decision. That would mean that he might not even get to take the stand.

He had nothing against Cara…except for the fact that she'd shoved a peanut up his nose and had flipped him onto his back when he'd tried to arrest her. But that was just business. He knew she had no personal vendetta against him. She'd merely been trying to escape capture. It was the nature of the vicious cycle they played. Lupin and his gang ran; Zenigata gave chase. He had given up his entire life in pursuit of the wily Lupin, even his daughter and his ex-wife. If he'd been happy before, he couldn't remember, but he was content with knowing that sooner or later he'd get the drop on Lupin for good.

His brow darkened at the morbid train of thought he was on. Plopping his hat back on his head, he leaned against the wall. His hand absently scratched at his stubble and he finished his cigarette, crushing it out in the ashtray right beside him. All he had to do now was sit and wait, and he was a man of action.

This was the hardest part for him.

* * *

Cara brushed her fingers through her snarled hair, wincing in the mirror the lady officer held up. The orange jumpsuit she wore made her skin look drawn out and pale. Her eyes had large black patches around them, but her jaw firmed as she thought of the battle ahead. Callahan pissed her off. She didn't know why, but she did not like him. She wouldn't let him lead her anywhere she didn't want to go. A smirk crossed her lips as they came to cuff her hands to be lead out. She would show them. She wasn't the prodigy of her father and the most famous thief alive for nothing. 

The two officers leading her out of her cell exchanged glances. Her smile was a little forced and glazed. She was going to have a tough time in court today; Callahan was known for playing hardball. Cara hardly noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the stormy sky. She didn't have much time.

Her briefcase was waiting on the table; she saw it as she entered. It was her focal point as she waited for the judge to arrive. There was no shuffling of papers, no last minute notes on her side of the courtroom. Her hands had been released, and she rubbed her wrists absently as she watched her briefcase. Her hands had taken a beating over the last month or so; they were rubbed raw and chapped from the many times she'd been cuffed and led around.

Time seemed to slow for her. She saw every second as a countdown to a pivotal moment in her life. Callahan was watching her, his eyes hard in the harsh light of the courtroom. She winked at him, and he jerked back as if he'd been slapped. She smiled inwardly. Good. He was nervous. She liked him that way; he would make mistakes.

"All rise for the honorable Judge Michael Danaher of the state of Illinois." There was shuffling as the court stood. Only she rose quietly, smoothly and with the inner grace of a cat. She remained standing until told to be seated, then sank into her chair with that same boneless grace. She could feel Callahan sizing her up, but she refused to look at him again.

"The case of the State of Illinois vs. Cara de Brouligiere is now in session, the Honorable Judge Danaher presiding."

Cara took a deep breath and ran her testimony through her head. She was going to come out of this victorious if she had to throttle Callahan to do it. She smiled to herself. She liked that idea.

They made their opening arguments, Callahan going first and delivering a smooth rhetoric about how Cara had plotted the entire caper with Lupin the Third, painting the gentleman thief in the harshest light possible. The jury looked unmoved, but Callahan wound his way into the chinks in their armor. Cara watched him, her pale eyes never leaving him. She nearly made him stutter a few times; this amused her to no end.

Then it was Cara's turn. She stood with that fluid grace she made look so easy, and turned to address the jury. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Your Honor, I stand before you today, without a lawyer. I do so because I find the thought ridiculous that I should need one in a case that I am so obviously innocent. I do not wish to insult your intelligence by dragging this out any farther than it needs to go, and all I ask is you judge me fairly and I will respect the court's decision." She inclined her head to judge and jury, and then sat down respectfully. She noticed Callahan was staring at her again, and she winked. He uttered a silent oath and shifted some papers around.

She sat, her hands in her lap, her head held high.

The Inquisition had begun.

* * *

Author's Note: GAH! Another chapter! Because people were threatening to withold cookies from me. I DEMAND COOKIES! Because I love you people, I have another chapter already in the works. That's right. It'll be done within a few days, just be patient. Till then, keep those reviews coming! 

Lywinis


	5. Order in the Kangaroo Court

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis

Chapter Five: Order in the Kangaroo Court

Cara had always enjoyed debating at school and with her father. She now realized that it had been child's play compared to the questions Callahan was throwing at her. She answered as truthfully as could be expected, considering she actually _had_ committed the crimes she had been accused of. He tried to lead her down multiple paths, tried to get her to admit she'd actually stolen the gems.

She was equally hard on the prosecution's witnesses. When Kenneth Foley took the stand, Callahan painted a portrait of a man who had been blind to the fact that a succubus was lurking in wait to steal the very thing she was there to appraise. Cara, however, painted a completely different character.

"Mr. Foley, please describe to me our parting conversation." She was standing slightly to the side so he could see the jury, and they could see him. He looked from her to Callahan, who nodded imperceptibly.

"I thanked you for a job well done. I was telling you how nice it was to see our monetary backers coming out to personally inspect the project," he replied uncertainly.

"Yes, it's true you did say that. Please, tell me, and you don't have to look to Mr. Callahan for answers, especially since you were there and he wasn't, what you told me after this?" There were slight titters in the courtroom at her sarcastic jab at Callahan, who turned a mottled shade of puce. Judge Danaher tapped his gavel, requesting quiet.

Foley looked ashamed of himself, but he replied honestly. "I told you everything was in order, and then…I asked you out to dinner."

"And you checked the gems I put back?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"It's standard procedure. Whenever the jewels are removed from their places, they are always checked to make sure they aren't misplaced or mislabeled."

"Did you touch the gems?"

"I think so, yes."

"Thank you, Mr. Foley, you can step down now."

Foley got down off the stand, looking pale and shaken.

Callahan wasn't done yet, however. "Prosecution calls again to the stand Ms. Cara de Brouligiere."

Cara resumed her seat in the stand, looking calm. Callahan held up a thin disk. "Ms. Brouligiere, do you know what this is?"

She peered at the disk, which she knew perfectly well, since she had set them herself. "No, sir, I do not."

"I think you do, since you placed them. These disks are state of the art holograms, designed to show anyone making a casual inspection a gem." He thumbed a switch, and the disk hummed to life, projecting the image of an emerald studded torque. The jury gasped and looked at each other.

"And your point is?"

"You know how it works, don't you?"

"Why would I? My family business is devoted to gem cutting, not technology."

Callahan flushed an ugly color, then flicked the little piece of merchandise off. Cara regarded him with a mixture of amusement and contempt. Her eyes mocked him, and an almost psychic comment floated from her mind to him. _You haven't got what it takes to convict me. If you try, I'll just counter you. Check and mate, friend. I welcome you to try, however. I enjoy watching men who think they're good embarrass themselves._

Cara smiled sweetly at him. "Your Honor, might I give my testimony now?"

Danaher waved a hand benevolently. She nodded and began. She told the jury about her day, telling them all about the way she got in, flashing her credentials and appraising the jewels. She admitted she had forgotten her case for appraisal, and had gone out to get it. Her driver had been out back, smoking, and she had tossed him her keys, so that he could go and relax until she called for him.

She finished by saying that she had spoken with Foley before she had left, and that he had asked her out to dinner. The judge allowed her to step down, then asked the prosecutor to call his next witness. Although his questioning hadn't been impressive so far, he hoped he would be able to pull it off with his next witness.

He didn't know how wrong he was.

"Prosecution calls Inspector Detective Koichi Zenigata to the stand."

Cara nearly laughed at Callahan. Oh, this was going to be amusing. Especially if Pops was in one of his neurotic moods, and every mention of Lupin set him off. She made a show of looking upset, and then settled into her chair to watch the questioning.

Zenigata came in, looking disheveled and unkempt. At least his tie was reasonably straight. He took his hat off and sat in the witness chair, looking for all the world like he had been paid a bottle of booze to sit up there and pretend to be the famous Inspector. He looked a little queasy today, and she nearly asked him if he wanted a stiff drink. It was probably nerves, though. He was never comfortable with bureaucracy.

He stuck a finger in his collar and stretched it, looking decidedly green. Callahan hoped the old guy could handle it. He was the chief witness. He stepped up.

"Inspector, I apologize for taking your time like this, what with you chasing Arsene Lupin and all. Will you tell us what happened the night of Ms. Brouligiere's arrest?"

"Uh, sure…" he looked almost scared of the lawyer, but he launched into a fairly accurate recounting of the night he tried to capture her.

Cara stood for her line of questioning. "Inspector Zenigata…can you tell me why you're after this Lupin the Third?"

Zenigata looked dumbfounded. Actually, he looked like he had never considered the question. He seemed to think about it for a moment. "I guess because Interpol assigned me to it."

"Are you sure that's the case? I hear that the International Criminal Police Organization has taken you off of the case several times."

He sputtered. "I was—well, I was taken off the case for several reasons."

"One of which was recorded as being mental instability?"

"Yes, but I don't see—"

"My point? My point, Detective Inspector, is that Lupin is much more than a case to you. It has turned into an obsession which, I am sad to say, I have seen firsthand."

"Objection! She has no grounds for this. She is not a licensed psychologist."

"Actually, Mr. Callahan, I hold a doctorate in psychology from Oxford."

"Where are your credentials?"

"Right here." She opened up her briefcase and showed him her certificate she had earned and the letters of recommendation she had gotten from her teachers. She also approached the bench and placed a copy before the judge, who smiled at her. His eyes crinkled at the corners in a recognizable way. She nearly stopped dead in her tracks. Lupin?

Then she understood. He was here to bail her out if things went wrong. She didn't appreciate him thinking she couldn't do it on her own, but she appreciated that he would make an appearance. She nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to the table. Callahan was looking at her credentials as if he could somehow prove they were false, but he could find nothing wrong with them. She wasn't surprised. The only ones who could probably find the glaring errors were Lupin, Jigen and Goemon.

In fact, she turned to the jury and saw two suspicious jurors, now that she knew what to look for. Jigen had shaved. That nearly threw her for a loop, but she saw the sympathy in his eyes. Goemon was the jury foreman. He nearly grinned at her, but his training came in handy. She watched Jigen out of the corner of her eye. With his beard gone, he looked a lot younger. She didn't know about the look, though. He just didn't seem like...Jigen.

She turned to Callahan. "Are my credentials enough for you?" When he nodded sullenly, she turned back to Zenigata. "May I return to my line of questioning, your honor?" Lupin waved a hand, nearly smirking. Instead, it looked like he had indigestion.

She turned to the Inspector, who very nearly flinched. "Now, Inspector Zenigata. What about your personal life? Do you have a wife, a child?"

"Yes. I am divorced now."

"Really? Why was that?"

"I was working too much. Lupin ruined my life."

"How many times have you caught this 'Lupin'? Why isn't he behind bars by now?"

"I've caught him over a hundred times, but he's always escaped."

"Perhaps he's only in your mind?"

Callahan nearly strangled himself. His tie caught on the edge of the table as he leapt out of his chair shouting, "Objection!"

Zenigata's translator was working overtime explaining to the Inspector exactly what was going on. He couldn't speak English very well, and he was getting more and more confused as to what was going on.

Cara turned to the judge. "May I speak to the witness in his own language, please?"

"What, you speak Japanese too? You happen to have a doctorate in that?"

"No, I'm self taught. I spent a few years in Japan as an overseas director for my father."

Lupin banged his gavel. "Enough with the side chat, you two. Ms. Brouligiere, make it quick."

She began speaking rapidly to Zenigata in Japanese. "You know for a fact that I'm going to win this, Pops. Why did you drag me out here for this?"

Zenigata got irritated. "Because you and Lupin are working together! I'm going to catch him and he's going to go down!"

The translator didn't catch what was said to Zenigata, as Cara used a slang dialect, but she certainly caught the gist of what the Inspector was shouting. She looked at the judge, frightened.

Judge Lupin wasn't going to let Zenigata get out of this one. "Bailiff, restrain that man!" The bailiff, not the childlike one, but a burly man of about middle age, grabbed Zenigata from behind. Zenigata struggled. "One more outburst from you, and I'll hold you in contempt!" Zenigata paled as this was translated to him, and he went limp. The bailiff let him go, but his credibility was already shot.

"Thank you, Inspector, you can go now." Zenigata slouched out of the courtroom. Callahan didn't even have the heart to reexamine him.

Callahan was getting extremely belligerent now. As they made their closing arguments, he attacked Cara, saying that she spoke Japanese and she had a doctorate in Psychology. What kind of person did that? Someone who was lying, that's who. He delivered a blistering rhetoric, venom behind each and every word.

Cara stood, calm and possessed. "I was arrested at my home in England," she began, her voice clear and heard in every corner of the courtroom. "I wasn't read my rights, and I wasn't allowed to plead my innocence. I was hit over the head after fending off Inspector Detective Zenigata." She held up her hands, the wrists once elegant and slender, now swollen and chapped. "I was in captivity for two weeks, sitting in a cell for days. I didn't take bail, because I was sure this would be a misunderstanding."

Lupin and Goemon looked outraged at her wounds. Jigen looked even more upset. She continued, feeling like she had the audience's sympathy. "I've traveled a long way to be here today, because I knew I would get a fair trial here. My being at the scene of the crime was a coincidence, a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. I want to go free. I want to live my life again. I'm not a bad person, but I'll bow to the whims of the court. If you think I am guilty, then I will respect your judgment and serve my sentence. But I know this jury will make the right choice."

She sat down. Fujiko was in the back row, on the edge of the uncomfortable bench. The girl had given a better show of herself than expected. She wasn't worried, though. That's why God made backup plans, as her lover was fond of saying.

If she wasn't going to get convicted, there were other ways of dealing with upstarts.

* * *

The jury came back sooner than most expected. Cara looked at the clock. It had taken a while. The trial had started at eight, and it was nearly five. The trial seemed to have taken only an hour or so in her mind, but the clock didn't lie. She felt exhausted. She sat at her table and put her head on her arms; since she was in custody, she wasn't allowed to leave the courtroom.

As the jury filed in, she could see the look on her friends' faces. She wasn't sure about the outcome, but she knew she had done what she could. Compared to most people, it was a hell of a lot more than normal.

She looked at Callahan. "Whatever happens, I have to admit, you were one of my hardest debaters."

He looked sour. "I hope you get gang-raped when they send you to prison."

"Wow, someone's bitter."

Callahan just sneered.

"Please rise for the verdict."

Cara stood, her heart pounding in her ears. She looked at Goemon and Jigen, but they couldn't give her an idea of what the verdict was either. She wouldn't break their cover. She was still, though. She wouldn't show weakness. She couldn't.

Lupin looked as tense as she felt. "Jury, have you reached a decision?"

"We have, your honor." Goemon's smooth English diction belied that he was a modern day samurai. She very nearly applauded the performance.

"Bailiff, if you will." The slip of paper was quickly delivered to Lupin, and he unfolded it, reading it once. He read it twice. She nearly walked upand slapped him as he read it a third time.

He finally looked up, a small smile on his face. "Not guilty."

She allowed herself a small gesture of victory. She pumped a fist into the air once, her way of congratulating herself. Callahan looked pissed enough to bite iron and spit nails. His nostrils flared and he stood to go.

He didn't get very far. A small "thunk" noise was heard as he passed her, and he fell at her feet, quite dead. A dart protruded from the side of his neck. A woman in the jury gasped; Jigen was looking frantically to see if Cara was all right. Goemon and Lupin had disappeared. The bailiffs were shunting people out of the room, especially her and the judge and jury. She lost sight of Jigen, and she was worried for the first time in her life. Was that dart meant for her?

She didn't know anymore, and she cursed to herself. She was in trouble again, and she could spell trouble only one way: L-U-P-I-N.

* * *

AGH! I had this finished _days _ago. If anyone knows what went down with the server, I was going nuts trying to log in. Anyway, Chapter Six is halfway through.

Till then,

Lywinis


	6. Snowed In

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis

Chapter Six: Snowed In

Cara was ushered outside to a waiting police car. She was taken to the station, where she was kept under guard and allowed to get her clothing. She was kept in the waiting area. She couldn't do anything about it, so she sat and waited. The Chicago police assured her that she would be set free as soon as possible. She never had much faith in the system.

She paced around the little cube of a visitor room, counting the footsteps as they took her around the cell. Sixteen steps across and ten steps wide. She sighed and looked out the window at the gathering storm clouds. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed England. She missed her father, and all of her favorite familiar places. She didn't miss the robberies, though.

She surprised herself there. She'd been doing it so long; there wasn't any…joy in her work anymore. She snorted to herself. She sounded like an old woman. But in a way, it was kind of true. She was getting too used to England…too used to her staked out territory. If she continued robbing the jewelry stores, no matter how careful she was, she was apt to be caught. The trial had shown her that.

It had shown her something else. There was someone who wasn't about to stop at seeing her behind bars. Someone wanted her dead. Probably some rival of Lupin's, out to get revenge for some wrong, or draw him out into the open. She was just a pawn in the underworld again, after she'd worked so hard to stake her claim to London. Now there would be copycats all over the place, and she would have to lie low.

She actually didn't mind. She was tired of the life. She was tired of seeing police cars, tired of being wanted, tired of having to fake disguises and alibis. She swore to herself that if she ever got out of this alive, she would give up the escapades and capers. Cara de Brouligiere was going to go into retirement.

She looked out the window, at the driving snow that was beginning to fall. She'd never make it home on a flight now. Sighing half to herself, she wondered if the others made it out all right. She chided herself almost immediately for the mutinous thought; of course they did. Escaping was what they did best.

The feeling of being too old for her body came back to her. Her eyes suddenly itched, and she realized she hadn't slept properly in about a month. Worn down was more like it. Her head rested against the windowpane, and she dozed. It had been a long day, and would be an even longer night.

* * *

The snow stopped after a week, and the airport was stopping all flights out until the runways were clear. That ended up being another three days. The state of Illinois believed in cutting its budget, and so Zenigata happened to be staying at the same cheap hotel that Cara was at. She had her own reasons for being there, one of them being that she had no access to her accounts because of the trial. They had all been frozen for inspection, and so, for one of the first times since her mother died, Cara was broke. 

She sat in the lobby reading a newspaper at the beginning of the snowfall. The hotel was a generic one, all flat rates and free breakfasts to lure in the traveling tourist. She looked up as Zenigata entered the sitting room, searching out a free breakfast of his own. The hotel employee assigned to the buffet hurried over with a clean plate to assist him, chattering at the bewildered inspector all about the fresh bagels and the hot coffee. She looked up to the ceiling in a silent plea for patience as Pops lost his temper and began snarling at the poor girl in Japanese.

She folded her paper and tossed it to the side, wandering over to where the chirpy attendant was now nearly in tears. "Miss, please excuse my uncle, _Tottsan_ doesn't speak English very well."

Zenigata looked over at her. "You!" She silenced him with a look and began chattering to the girl again in that incomprehensible English.

"Is there any way I can serve him instead of you, since I know what he likes?"

The poor girl, all big green eyes and curly black hair, nodded meekly. "T-there's a pair of tongs for each item under the counter there," she said. "Please use the plastic gloves in the box on the end." Cara smiled at her warmly, and the girl fled in relief.

When she was gone, the former thief's eyes became hard as slate as she glared at the inspector. "You know, you'd get better service if you'd at least learn a modicum of English."

"Why should I? It's barbaric."

"No, the way you were shouting at the poor girl when all she wanted to do was serve you breakfast was the barbaric part." She pulled a pair of plastic gloves from the box as instructed, and handed him a clean plate. "Now, play the part of my confused uncle, or you'll get yourself in trouble with the management. What would you like for breakfast?"

Zenigata, clueless as ever, pointed to a few things, and Cara served him respectfully. In the end, the old man had quite an appetite. Several muffins, bagels, fresh fruit, even some oatmeal went onto his plate and he was soon seated next to her, munching happily while she sifted through the paper again.

His hunger sated, he seemed to want to talk. "Why are you here?"

She put down the paper, not much interested in it anyway. "Same reason you are, _tottsan_. The state didn't want to pay for anything more expensive than a Holiday Inn."

"I thought you were rich."

"And I thought you knew how a trial worked. They froze my accounts so that they could make sure no excess revenue came in from illegal sources."

He looked ashamed of himself. "Oh." He sipped his coffee; he had taken a liking to the strong American brews in his many overseas travels. "Thank you for helping me get breakfast."

"Not a problem. At least we should try to get along, considering we're stuck here."

"You're a thief. Why should I want to get along with you?"

"For one thing, _tottsan_, I can speak English far better than you, and if you want, I can teach you. For another, I'm retiring."

He stared at her suspiciously. "Retiring? I thought you had staked out the entire area of London for your private preserve?"

"Yes, several years earlier I did. Now that I've been brought to trial, a whole host of copycats will spring up and I'll have to up my own efforts to keep myself fresh and original. I feel old, Pops. Too old, in fact. I'm tired of being chased, and now all I want is to retire in peace and live out my days as the Ruby Princess."

"I had always wondered why you stole. You have too much money as it is." He didn't seem envious; he merely stated a fact.

"I was rich…until my father found out about my activities. He allowed me to stay, but my trust fund is the only thing keeping me going. There is no inheritance. He's only keeping me around to keep his good name intact. In fact, I have a feeling he'll kick me out after this, just for bringing bad publicity to the empire he worked so hard to create."

Zenigata shook his head. "I'd always heard rumors you had an overseas bank account, in Switzerland, or perhaps the Caribbean."

She snorted; the man did his research. "I did. Fujiko found out the codes and access numbers from Lupin, and she wiped me out."

"I _knew_ you played a part in Sutton Hoo!" His voice was triumphant, but his posture sagged a bit. Being right about your hunches and having them verified only got your ego so far if you couldn't put the perpetrator behind bars. She nodded, seeing no reason to deny it, now that she had gotten away with it.

He sobered. "Fujiko wiped you out?"

"Just like she would Lupin. She lives to double cross him, and she saw no harm in doing the same to me."

He wanted to feel happy, or at least triumphant about this, but seeing her like this, slightly depressed and looking much wiser than her years told the usually oblivious man to keep his mouth shut.

She appreciated the old man's silence on this one. She studied his face, and was surprised to see that he wasn't that much older than Lupin or Jigen. She amended the "old man" comment. She actually respected Zenigata, truth be told. He'd been after the thief for longer than she had known Lupin. After all the times Jigen, Lupin, Fujiko, Goemon, and even Cara herself had made him look like a total fool, he was still as dedicated as ever.

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by Zenigata's quizzical stare. He was looking at her like she was crazy, and she realized she'd been staring at him the entire time. She looked down.

"Cara, look…"

"Listen, Inspector, if you want to learn English, come to my room." She gestured outside, at the still falling snow. "It's not like I'm going anywhere." In a fit of mischief, or perhaps gratitude, she leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. Her eyes were unreadable as she picked up her paper and left the lobby.

Zenigata put a hand to his cheek and wondered if there was such a thing as cabin fever after only one day of being snowed in.

* * *

"No, not like that. You have to pronounce a stronger 'r'." Cara chided, listening to the Inspector pronounce his words fitfully. "Listen: 'Hello, my name is Koichi Zenigata, it's a pleasure to meet you.'" Her voice was slow and measured, so he could hear and follow her syllables. He nodded and tried to follow her. 

"Hell-o…my name is…Koichi Zenigata…it's a pleasure…to meet you."

"Good!" Cara nodded. A grin split her face. "That's probably the best pronunciation I've heard from you yet."

He beamed. "Thank you."

"Now let's try another phrase." She held up the chalkboard she'd asked to borrow from the hotel's restaurant. A big lobster decorated the top of the specials board, and she'd laughed when she saw it, but she borrowed it and the colored chalk to teach her "uncle" passable English. All of the words she wrote were phonetically divided, so he could follow them easily.

_Excuse me, miss, may I please order a hamburger?_

"Excuse me, miss…may I prease order a hambargar?"

She smiled. "Close, but not quite. You still have trouble pronouncing your 'l's." She sounded out the word for him, and he listened, his forehead wrinkled in strain. When she thought he could do it, she encouraged him to try it.

"Excuse me, miss, may I _please _order a _hamburger_?" he tried the words, the lettering sounding foreign to him still. When she clapped her hands, he beamed again. His jacket rested on the chair behind him, and his tie was loosened. A bowl of instant ramen steamed on the table beside him (she swore he packed the stuff in his suitcase just so he could have the blue brand with him in case of an emergency).

In fact, she thought it rather surreal, sitting in a snowed-in motel, teaching the man who had arrested her proper English. He didn't seem to mind it; in fact, she could almost see the young man who had gone to school in the hopes of becoming a police officer.

He was bright, surprisingly. He was single-minded, and that was how Lupin got the best of him more than once. He failed to see the entire picture, being focused too often on the master thief, and Lupin or one of the others would throw him a screwball from another direction. His single-mindedness allowed him to be a quick study in the English language, though.

She stretched her back. Switching to English, she spoke slowly and carefully, using short words so he could understand her. "We have to give the board back. It is almost lunch time."

He nodded, firing off in Japanese, but she held up a finger and glared at him. Sighing, he switched to English. "All right. May I eat my ramen now?"

She nodded, picking up the chalk and wiping the board clean. She flipped on the television and switched to the educational channel. It was showing _Sesame Street_. She grinned, remembering that one from childhood. "This will help you with your letters, too, Inspector."

He watched, fascinated by the puppets. "This…is a children's show?" he asked laboriously. When she nodded, he scowled. "You mean I have to watch?"

"Oh, come on, I watched this when I was little," she said, switching back to Japanese to argue. "This was how I learned English. If you don't want to learn, fine. But you're doing beautifully. You picked up on it faster than anyone I've seen learning it as a second language."

Her nudge at his ego and her flattery made him turn back to study the screen again. He slurped at his ramen, fascinated again by the puppets. His forehead wrinkled as he followed the words.

She took the opportunity to slip down to the restaurant to return the specials board. The girl who was nearly in tears from Zenigata's outburst earlier that week apparently double shifted as the hostess for the restaurant, and she took the board back, asking about her uncle.

"He's picking up on it faster than I expected," Cara replied amiably. "He's extremely sorry about his yelling. He gets frustrated when he can't make himself understood."

The young lady smiled, so chipper it was amazing to Cara, who'd never seen anyone so lively in her life. She talked with the girl for about a minute, then claimed she was hungry (which she was), and would talk to the girl later (which she hoped to avoid, as the young lady was a tad annoying).

The girl smiled and scribbled something on a slip of paper, handing it to Cara. "For your uncle."

Cara looked down in disbelief. It read, _call me if you want_. It was signed Nandra, and it had her phone number at the bottom. She nodded at Nandra and walked into the restaurant, pocketing the slip of paper.

She ordered a salad and ate quickly, wanting to work with Zenigata on his English some more. Then the absurdity of what had just happened at the hostess station hit her: Zenigata screamed at a girl, and he got a date. Her laughter was low, but it brought tears to her eyes nonetheless. She was getting strange stares from the other diners, so she finished eating, paid, and left.

Zenigata was still in her room, watching the end of the show, when she got back. She was taken by a fit of giggles when she saw him. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, barefoot, staring at the screen. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, and he was miming the words as the show went along. She collapsed in the only chair, laughing.

He looked up, surprised. "Did I do something wrong?" He realized he was sitting on the bed, and hurriedly jumped off. "I meant no…no…" His brow furrowed. "What is the word?"

"Disrespect?" she said, her laughing quieting to breathy gasps. "No, not disrespect. It was just funny to me, seeing you so seriously intent on _Sesame Street_."

He flushed, his face turning ruddy right to the roots of his hair. "I am learning," he protested.

"I know, I know, and you're doing well." She walked over to the table, and saw Zenigata's lunch, cold now and only half-eaten. He _was_ dedicated. Lunch reminded her of her encounter with Nandra, and she began giggling again.

"What now?" he asked, turning back to her. He looked as if he thought she was losing her mind. She told him all about Nandra, handing him the slip of paper. He looked down at it, embarrassed. "Should I…call her?"

"Why are you asking me, Inspector? I figure with all of your experience with handcuffs, you're a regular ladies man!"

He scowled. "Not funny."

"Then why are you smiling?"

He was smiling despite himself. "Because you are foolish."

She grinned. "Not as foolish as you might believe."

They both looked at each other, amazed at how well they were getting along. By all accounts, they should be at each other's throats, but being snowed in and taking pity on someone tended to make a friend rather than a foe.

She flipped the channel, since _Sesame Street_ was over, tuning into the weather channel. Zenigata paid attention, mimicking the forecaster's lip synch. She watched for signs of the snow stopping, but she was disappointed when the forecaster said the snow would last for a week, maybe more.

"He is saying the snow is not stopping?" Zenigata asked. She nodded. "Crap." It was a halfhearted expletive at best, but it made her smile.

"Well, since you're learning English so quickly, soon we won't have to talk together so much."

"It is not that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I have work to do. Sitting in..." he thought for a moment, trying to think of the English word, then switched to Japanese. "…_aiyado_ is not troubling. It has been rewarding."

"You mean rooming together at the same hotel?" He nodded, snapping his fingers when she hit upon the word he was looking for. "Actually, you're not so bad, once I got to know you, that is. You're pretty likeable." She punched him gently on the arm. "Are you going to call that Nandra girl?"

He blushed, which she found infinitely amusing. "I will…apologize."

"Nothing else?"

"No. I have work to do." He gestured out the window. "I have to catch Lupin."

She nodded in her understanding. He had his priorities. She had hers. "Inspector?"

"You can…call me Koichi."

"It feels strange. Anyway, will you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"When you catch Lupin, make sure you get Fujiko too? Just this once. I want to see her behind bars."

He seemed a little worried by her vehemence. "All right…but it seems odd that you would want to see an accomplice go to jail."

Her eyes glinted in the light cast from the floor lamps. "She double crossed me. She needs to pay the price. I'm retiring, so someone else will have to do it."

He looked at her, recognizing simple honor. It was part of his code, and something he understood, even though his English was barely acceptable.

"I'll see what I can do, Cara. I promise."

She nodded and pulled out the chalkboard. They got back to work. It was going to be a long week, so why not make the best of it?

* * *

Hello hello again, this is a long one. :) I love Pops, enough to make Nandra stalk him. You might recognize her when I finally get around to updating _Misery Loves Company_. She is, as I described her to Raven, a "big ball of happy". She also is creepy later on in the role-play, but I won't give away too much. If you'd like to read it, the link is in my biography. You can't miss it. 

Till later,

Lywinis

P.S. For the clueless, or for those who aren't too keen on the Japanese Lupin, _tottsan_ can be translated as "brother", "father", or "uncle", but in the manga, it can be legitimately translated as "Pops", or "old man". So when Cara calls him _tottsan_, she's literally calling him Pops.Your worthless piece of trivia for today. XD


	7. Borrowed Time

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis

Chapter Seven: Borrowed Time

The snow was melting finally. Cara very nearly had cabin fever. The only thing keeping her sane was teaching Zenigata English. She noted before he was a remarkably quick study, and by the end of the two-week blizzard, he was speaking reasonably well. She still tortured him by making him speak in English at all times, which he endured admirably. He wasn't one to argue, especially if she were trying to help him.

Almost two weeks later, the airstrips at O'Hare were clear. Cara was sitting in the lobby when Zenigata came wandering down. Her bag was packed, sitting beside her as she sipped her coffee and paged through her paper.

"You are leaving now?" He asked, his accent only slightly noticeable. When she nodded, he looked a little disappointed. Then he surprised her by taking her hand and leading her to the buffet. Nandra was there, and she watched the older man with almost hungry eyes. While Cara thought it was rather cute, Zenigata having a girl with a crush on him, there was something about Nandra that disturbed her. The Inspector had avoided the breakfast buffet and the restaurant for the entire two weeks, resorting to bribing and wheedling breakfast out of Cara.

Zenigata led her all the way up to Nandra and gave a perfunctory bow. "Check my English, would you?" he muttered in Japanese. She nodded.

"Excuse me, miss, I wish to apologize for my rudeness earlier. I am not so good with English, and I was…" he pondered a moment, then found the word he was looking for. "…upset."

Cara grinned. "You did great!"

Nandra seemed disappointed. It seemed she was hoping for more from the Inspector, but he looked rather nervous. Cara figured the girl set him on edge. _He's not the only one_, she thought ungraciously.

"I'll accept your apology," Nandra said, her face breaking into one of her cheerful smiles, "on one condition."

"Yes?" Zenigata was wary, his eyes darting back and forth, looking for an outing.

"You have to promise to call me." Nandra pouted prettily, working her charm for what it was worth. Cara, looking at the girl's face, suddenly understood why Zenigata was nervous. The smile Nandra plastered on her slightly pudgy face never reached her eyes. Those green pinpoints in her face were cold, cruel and calculating. They reminded the retired thief of Fujiko, at least in their level of cunning.

Cara was half-inclined to give a shiver. Instead, she leveled her own icy gaze on the chipper girl, causing Nandra to flinch. "I think the Inspector, I mean, my uncle, would have called you even without your 'condition'. You're awfully rude to demand a customer call you. In fact, I ought to report you to the management for solicitation."

Nandra's smile was suddenly wiped from her face, and the fleshy visage hardened. "I was talking to the gentleman. Is there anything I can help you with, Miss?" _Like throwing you off a high rise_, her eyes said.

"Actually, no, my uncle and I were leaving." She took Zenigata's arm the way a younger relative would, and grabbed her suitcase. Whispering to him in Japanese, she noted, "Forget I said anything along the lines of dating her. She's creepy."

Zenigata nodded, thankful just to be out of there. Nandra watched them go. Her eyes had narrowed to the point that it seemed like she was asleep on the job.

There were other ways of catching a man, and she was quite familiar with all of them. Indeed.

* * *

Cara gave an involuntary shiver as they stepped into the elevator. When Zenigata looked at her, she hastily let go of his arm and smoothed her hair down. "I got a really bad vibe off of her. Brrr, I mean, she really looked like a psycho in training. Woman rule number one: 'Steer clear of creepy girls and scary exes'. At least, you know, it was rule number one in my book."

Zenigata nodded, letting her babble. "Well, you didn't stay away from Lupin."

She scowled. "I know, and it cost me two months of sleepless nights, the death of a lawyer possibly meant for me, and two weeks of being stuck in a hotel teaching a stubborn Inspector English. See where not following my own policies gets me?" When his face fell at her comment, she patted his arm awkwardly. "It's not that it wasn't fun, it's just that in all my years as a thief, I never thought I'd be the one to teach you English."

His lips quirked. "And I never thought that I'd actually like a thief." She made a face at him, and he laughed.

The door whooshed open on the third floor, and they made their way to his room. She never really thought about it, she had always wandered in when it was time for his lessons. As she stepped in behind him now, she saw his neatly packed suitcase on the bed. It was battered and worn; she wondered how many countries and how many quick escapes it had been through. Lupin did have a tendency to make things explode when he was making a flashy exit.

"You're leaving today, too?" she asked casually. He nodded, picking his hat up off the side table and plopping it onto his head. His hat, like his trench coat, was such a part of him that Cara was shocked to see he took them off. Actually, she was shocked whenever he did something completely human. Before, Zenigata had been a shadow. Pops was something to be avoided, or something to use to escape.

She shook her head as all the revelations came pounding into her skull. She hated when she got all philosophical about stuff like this; she was more like her father than she would care to admit, and she hated it.

She sighed. He looked up. "Nani?" Startled, she stared through him as if she hadn't seen him before, then her face cleared.

"I was thinking about the old days, when you weren't so complicated," she said. He looked confused. "You were always after Lupin, just another hurdle. Now…you're a normal guy, if a little stubborn and single-minded at times."

He shut the suitcase with an audible snap, his back to her for the moment. "I was normal once, before Lupin," he said wistfully. He stared at the wall, as if the scarred and slightly smudged wall of a cheap hotel could hold his memories back. He turned to her, and she noticed his eyes had gone flat. He stared at her, and she saw his pain. She knew she had been a part of that, and she was suddenly…remorseful? Yes, that and she was afraid she had done something that had screwed up his life. She had only known he existed for two years, but still, she felt guilt where Lupin would feel none.

She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Your wife, and your daughter…do you still keep in touch?"

He flinched and seemed to notice her. "I send in child support, they take it. I tried writing…all my letters got returned to me, unopened."

"I am sorry, Zenigata-sama," she replied, adding the honorific as an afterthought. She hung her head. "I am partly responsible—"

Suddenly, she was backed against the door, his arms around her, his lips on hers. Her eyes widened. What the hell? She struggled, but he tightened his grip on her shoulders, his kiss gentle but insistent. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. "No, Inspector," she said quietly.

He looked ashamed of himself. "I thought…" he cast his eyes downward. "I am sorry." He turned away. She grabbed his sleeve, her fingers like steel as she forced him to look at her.

"You know it would never work." She watched his face go from denial, to anger, and finally, acceptance. "You have your life, I have mine. Almost three months ago, you wanted both Lupin and I dead. You also are old enough to be my father." She ticked off these reasons on her fingers, her voice short and clipped. He opened his mouth to protest. She silenced him with a look. "Besides, what would it look like to your superiors? They might think a whole lot of you now, but what would happen if they knew you were dating an ex-thief?"

"But, you could say you had nothing to do with it…" he started lamely. She shook her head.

"You're like a father, Zenigata-sama. Try as I might, I couldn't think of you that way." She looked firm, even though she knew she must have been wounding his pride. "I don't want to hurt you, but that was…scary for me. You surprised me."

He looked genuinely sorry. He put his hand behind his head and rubbed at his neck, flustered. "I should have asked…"

She burst out laughing, and he scowled. "What?"

Tears were rolling down her face at his look of consternation. "Y-you have a daughter, and you still have to ask to kiss a girl?" She was holding her sides, giggling.

He turned his back, sulking. "It's courtesy!"

She laughed harder. He glared, his hat seeming to drop over his eyes. She was poignantly reminded of a certain gunman, and her mirth nearly turned to sobs.

Her laughter cut off, and she patted his arm. "I'm sorry…you have no idea how absurd this is." She thought he might actually, since he was looking as awkward as she felt, but she continued. "How about we agree to be friends?"

He nodded, hoping she wasn't upset about his indiscretion. She put out her hand, and he took it solemnly. They shook, and it sealed something that should have never started in the first place.

"What flight are you taking out of Chicago?" she asked.

"The first one I can get," he replied.

"Good, I'll come with you."

* * *

They did indeed take the very first flight out of Chicago. It happened to be heading for Rome, which Cara was all right with. She needed a vacation. She relaxed in her chair, glad for once that there were no handcuffs to impede her movements. Sipping at a soda, she watched the clouds go by, unaware that both she and the good Inspector were being watched.

Nandra sat about six rows behind, her green eyes glittering in malice. It was a good thing she had seen them leave, or she would never have caught the same flight. She patted her purse, where no less than two dozen credit cards rested. Gifts, from "admirers". She smirked. Keeping the cards open, never using them, had been a good idea. When it really mattered, she could get what she wanted. And she wanted Zenigata.

The stewardess passed by, smiling jovially. Nandra stuck out a foot to trip her. She tripped and fell, landing on her face right in front of the Inspector. He was up immediately, helping her up by the arm and asking in a concerned voice if she was all right. Nandra smirked. He'd be a pushover.

That Cara girl was another matter. Nandra didn't think she and Zeni were related. (She'd begun to think of him as "Zeni" when she searched through the records of the hotel and pulled his credit card file up.) The former hotel attendant watched the lovely girl interact with her Zeni, grinding her teeth every time Cara made him laugh. It should be _her_ Zeni was taking on holiday, not that nasty woman.

She fingered her bag again, feeling the hard length of the pistol in her purse. In this day and age, getting a pistol onto an airplane was a near impossibility, but she had managed. It was actually more of an afterthought; she had lifted the gun from one of the security personnel after she waltzed through the metal detectors. She didn't look suspicious, so she figured she might actually get away with walking through the metal detectors on the other side.

She leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed to slits, watching Zeni and his awful girlfriend. Suddenly, a brilliant idea occurred to her. What if that _was_ her in the chair next to Zeni? What if she looked like Cara? The thought was rather delicious in its simplicity. Nandra nearly cackled. Of course! All she had to do was contact the right people…and Nandra knew the right people.

All she had to do was make the original disappear.

Nandra wasn't the only one watching the unlikely duo. Two burly men, clad in black turtlenecks and jeans, sat across the aisle from them, about two rows behind. Their beady eyes were glued to their magazines, but more than once the unintelligent black orbs would shift to either Cara or Zenigata. The men were stereotypical henchmen, all muscle and no brains. They figured, somewhere in their ape-like noggins, that a girl couldn't be that much trouble.

The plane was on its way to Rome, and it was doubtful those two were intending on letting Cara get off to view the Piazza de Spagna. One cracked his knuckles idly, and the other one, the larger and cannier of the two, whacked him on his beefy shoulder.

"What?" his simian companion asked. "I ain't doin' nothin'."

"Yer crackin' yer knuckles, dummy," the other growled. "Why not just send her a card, so she'll know yer there?"

"Oh. Sorry, Carl."

"Shaddup."

Cara was hardly relaxed. Her flight from the courtroom, without having any questions answered, was unsettling, and her nerves were taut, even during her stay at the luxury hotel provided by the state of Illinois. She bit that last thought off with a sarcastic snort. Someone wanted her dead. She wasn't amused.

Her whole body was hot-wired to survival mode, and her ears picked up the whispered conversation of the goons across the aisle. Resisting the urge to whip around in her seat, she picked up her nearly empty can of soda. Pretending to examine the can, she picked a particularly shiny area and trained it on the goons.

Someone must have taken her for an amateur. She nearly smirked in hard-edged amusement. Prodding Zenigata, she said conversationally, "Hey, did you know this soda claims to have no caffeine? I don't believe it." Zenigata, prodded from his own thoughts, looked at her as if she'd gone completely mad. She leaned in and handed him the can, speaking in a whisper, "Take the can and aim a shiny spot two rows behind us across the aisle." She continued in her conversational tone, "See? It says on the front it has no caffeine, but when you turn to look at the ingredients, there's caffeine, right there."

He took the can and did as she said, his eyes widening. "Well, I never, it does say there's no caffeine." He picked up on it rather quickly, or so she thought. He leaned in and whispered, "Why do you care about the stewardess? She's pretty, but I didn't think she was your type."

Cara nearly groaned. "There are two goons in turtlenecks back there, talking about offing me," she hissed. "I don't give a damn about the stewardess!"

"OH!" His voice was unnaturally loud, and drew a few looks from several passengers.

"Why do I even bother?" Cara asked, mainly to herself.

Zenigata shrugged. "Because I can protect you?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you don't trip over your own feet or spy a bowl of ramen first."

"I happen to be a very good cop," he huffed.

Her response was another roll of the eyes. Sulking, he flagged down the stewardess. She came by with the drink cart, smiling at him. He had, after all, helped her up when she fell. "Can I get you something, _Ispettore_?"

He smiled, uncomfortable with the adoration. "Could I get a glass of water, please?"

Cara snorted. He glared at her. "What?"

"You gonna boil some ramen at sixty thousand feet?"

They bickered that way for a couple of minutes, much to the stewardess's confusion. She handed Zenigata his water and scuttled off down the aisle, wondering if maybe she'd made a mistake by being friendly with him. Maybe he'd gotten into a fight with his pretty girlfriend over it. She hoped not.

The plane landed soon enough, but not soon enough for the two. They had just begun to get on each other's nerves, although both knew they could stop harping on each other any time they wanted. They stepped off the plane, still mad at each other, with Zenigata explaining the dynamics of ramen, and arguing about the pros and cons of the red brand versus the blue brand. Finally she'd had enough.

She rounded on him, glaring like he was Lupin. He went pale, remembering the last time he had seen her this angry. He hadn't been able to walk for the next few weeks. He flinched. Satisfied she'd gotten her point across, she turned back around, only to bump into one of the black shirted thugs from the plane. A small groan of annoyance was all she had time for before he clamped a meaty hand down on her shoulder and steered her toward the exit.

Zenigata moved to intercept the man, but the smaller of the two pulled a knife and faced off with him. This happened within the space of a few seconds, all while they were still on the gateway. All of a sudden, the bumbling Pops became Detective Inspector Zenigata, man of the law. Out came his jutte, catching the knife and twisting it out of the thug's hands. Zenigata's mouth thinned to a grim line, and he brought the thick metal club down on his attacker's head. A woman screamed.

Zenigata looked up, but it wasn't Cara. A woman behind him had seen him overpower the man with the knife, and security was charging up the covered platform of the walkway, their submachine guns at the ready. He held up his hands, dropping his jutte on his attacker's head. "Inspector Zenigata, Interpol," he said lamely, fishing out his badge.

Cara was gone.

* * *

"You're going to pay for getting my partner arrested," said the burly thug. He looked Italian, so Cara figured he was homegrown. She smirked, causing the thick hand to squeeze her shoulder with surprising force, nearly making her yelp. "None of that," snarled the big man. "You're coming with me."

"Can I get some ice cream while we're at it?" she smirked. "You can't shut me up, because I'll make a scene, am I right?"

"I guess so." The thug looked about him warily. She had seen what Zenigata had done to his partner, and she had cheered him silently as she turned to go with the bigger man. She didn't know Pops had it in him. She concentrated on the matter at hand, though.

"Well, I'll make a deal with you. I go through customs, get my suitcase, all the regular jazz. I promise I won't give you any trouble till we're out of the airport, but then we're fair game, deal?"

He looked dumbfounded. "No way. I have you now, why should I let you go?"

"Because the guards at this airport have submachine guns. If I scream, and you kill me, you'll be mowed down."

"So what if I am? You'll be dead too, and that's what I was supposed to do."

"You're awfully loyal, for a thug."

"I'm paid well. And the side benefits ain't so bad, neither." He leered at her, and she suddenly wanted to lash backwards and kick him in the groin. He seemed to sense her sudden inspiration, however, and that meaty hand clamped again, harder. She nearly fell to her knees.

"Fine, we'll play it your way," she spat. "Just let up."

"That's a good girl." He put his hand in the small of her back and steered her through customs and baggage claim. "Now, we're gonna go see my employer."

"Whatever." The hand tightened in warning, and she hissed at him.

"You speak to my boss with respect, you hear?"

She heard, all right. She also heard that he was taking his lines straight from gangster clichéd movies. But she wasn't about to argue with a man that could break her in half, even at her 5'8" height, wiry strength, and gymnast's build. She walked swiftly, his palm propelling her along, and sooner than she would have liked, she reached the front gates of the airport.

A black sedan was waiting out front, and tall, dark, and ugly shoved her into the back. She bumped her head on the doorframe as she went in, and sat glaring at him as he squeezed his bulk in beside her.

"Don't look at me like that, your face'll get stuck that way, and I'm sure you don't want your obituary picture to look like that."

She scowled, scooting as far away from him as possible and trying not to look as frightened as she felt. No one had ever made her feel powerless before. This man could crush her head. She was annoyed at herself. She'd faced death countless times on raids with Lupin, hadn't she? People liked shooting at him for some reason. It had to be the bright red coat. She stifled a hysterical giggle.

The car drove for what seemed like hours, but what had to be only a few minutes. Stopping outside what she recognized, even in the gathering darkness, as the Palazzo Montecitorio, the lower house of the Italian parliament, she was ushered into a side door and led down a long dark hallway. She noticed it started sloping down, until they had to be going at least two stories underground. For an older Roman palazzo, it had been seriously renovated. She looked at the electric lights that lined the walls at odd intervals, and realized this must have been added around World War II. It fit, since it would have been one of Il Doce's private hiding spots.

She was impressed; everyone said that Mussolini had more than one hidey-hole. Someone must have either paid a pretty penny to use this, or they had found one that no one else had, and concealed it. Cara was inclined to believe the latter. She was broken from her musings, however, when the thug stopped before a vault-like door, sealed against the outside air. It reminded her slightly of a door in a submarine, with a center valve you turned to open and shut it.

The joke from the Godfather trilogy rapped on the metal door, his strikes making the metal echo ominously into the dark hallway. "That must be Carlo. Let him in."

With a squeaking of wheels and joints, the door swung open, and Cara was shoved through into an elegantly appointed suite of rooms. Carved wood, oiled and polished against the damp, was everywhere. Rugs of all types and all thick enough to sink into at the ankles lay on the floor. Her trained eyes took in everything and she noted everything was of the best quality. That was all she was able to assess before she was led into a side office. The oiled leather chair creaked as she came in, and she was forcibly seated in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Her goon stepped aside for the moment, but stayed within arm's reach.

"It's nice to see you again, Miss Brouligiere." The voice came from the chair in front of her; she couldn't tell who it was, as all she could see was the chair back, but she had a good idea of who had a score to settle.

"Yeah, Fujiko, long time no see."

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow, what a chapter. This one was hard, because I kinda feel like I'm reaching with Nandra sometimes. She's hard to write, mainly because her personality fluctuates so much. She actually reminds me of Raven. XD**

**On a lighter note, ol' Pops seems to be developing a crush on Cara. I feel sorry for him. ;) And if you're wondering what exactly his jutte is, think a cross between Raphael's weapon on the Ninja Turtles, and a nightstick carried by police. It's a short, thick,heavy metal club with a branching arm used mainly for catching and disarming opponents armed with swords and the like. Another bit of useless trivia for you. XD**

**Till later,**

**Lywinis**


	8. A Time of Reckoning

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis

Chapter Eight: A Time of Reckoning

"I don't know what you take me for," Cara began, irritably flicking her bangs out of her face. "I'm not some amateur you can push around and use to train your thugs."

Fujiko smirked. "Yet, you're still here, sitting before me."

Cara's smile was bitter, but held an edge of triumph. "That might be so, but you're a thug short."

Fujiko bristled. "Is that so, Carlo?" she asked, her voice the temperature of a lake in winter.

He hung his head. "Zenigata got Marco, boss. I'm sorry."

"He was arrested?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Fujiko glared at him. "Zenigata was there, and you still took her?"

"Yes…did we do something wrong?"

"YOU IDIOT!" she fumed. "Zenigata will end up tracking her here, especially since he's probably using her as bait to get to Lupin." Fujiko couldn't think of anything else, especially since she herself had betrayed Lupin on several occasions in such a way. It would never occur to her that Cara and Zenigata had become allies, even friends.

Cara smiled again. She enjoyed seeing Fujiko ruffled. "So, Fujicakes, what are you going to do now? You gonna let me go?" Fujiko glowered at the use of Lupin's nickname for her.

"Hardly." The beautiful woman's mouth was a thin line. "I'm going to kill you."

The ex-thief rolled her eyes. "Why do you care? Lupin and I are done, and you got your share, along with mine, I might add."

Fujiko looked surprised that Cara knew of the theft of her payment for the Sutton Hoo job. "Actually, it's the principle of the thing. You're an ex, and you're not welcome back into Lupin's protection. He told me so himself."

"Was this before or after he tried to have his way with me in my lawyer's office?"

Fujiko gave another start. When had Lupin gone to see her? "Humph. It was after, probably."

"So he came to the trial just to see me go to jail, then?"

Damn it. Cara had the high ground, and Fujiko was struggling for answers. She didn't like being off balance like this; it reminded her too much of being with Lupin when he wasn't after her body.

She snapped her fingers. "Throw her in the holding cell."

Carlo moved forward, grabbing for Cara's shoulder, and that's when she made her move. The thug had slipped on a shoulder holster before they had come in, and it contained a 9mm Beretta. She snagged it as he reached out to crush her shoulder again and whipped underneath his arm, coming up in a roll with the gun aimed at Fujiko.

"Such a waste, Fujiko," Cara commented, noting the other two had frozen the second she had grabbed the gun. "You and I never needed to talk to each other again, yet you had to take my cut, try to frame me, and then kill me. For someone who's double-crossed Lupin so many times, I'd figure you to be smarter. Jealousy never played a part in it, did it? You just wanted me dead so you could go on stealing from him. I have no problem with it. Steal from Lupin. Screw him over as many times as you want. Eventually he'll get tired of you, same as he did with me. You'll either come to the point where he'll tell you to put out or get out, or he'll find someone infinitely more fascinating to lead him on by his crotch."

Fujiko's temper flared along with the color that dusted her cheeks in hard little spots. "You bitch. You never satisfied him, and so he came to me. You'd figure he'd be all right with you; you look like a decent piece of tail, given a little make-up and a new wardrobe."

Cara kept the Beretta leveled at Fujiko's beautiful face. "I really could care less your reasons for wanting me dead. I'm going to walk out of here, and then you're going to pull in all the assassins or whatever you have, and leave me alone. I'm not working with Lupin again, so you can be satisfied with him…until he decides to drop you for someone younger, and more beautiful."

Fujiko's eyes narrowed, and she went for the subcompact pistol she kept in her garter. She was fast, even though Cara already had the pistol drawn.

The guns both went off at once.

* * *

Lupin was in Rome, relaxing by the Piazza de Spagna, a glass of Colli Lanuvini in his hand. He sniffed it, tasted, then sat back in his chair with a contented sigh. Jigen looked over, a bottle of scotch in his hand. He was as fond of Italian wines as anyone else, but sometimes he missed his old staples. Lupin's gluttony for fine wine and finer women never ceased to amaze the gunman. 

He was worried again. Cara hadn't sent her usual letter to the P.O. box he checked on his rounds through businesses Lupin ran. He figured she was angry at Lupin, but even when she had been bitter the last time, she had written to him. He was about to pack up and head over to England for a while, just to see if she were all right.

He knew Lupin would be pissed, considering they were on the eve of another job. A French diplomat by the name of Cloutier had arrived only yesterday, and Lupin had noticed the ceremonial robe the man wore contained dozens of secret pockets. He was sure that Cloutier had the documents that France was trying to push on the rest of the world, the ones for the oil contracts in its only remaining territory, a small island just outside the American sphere of influence in the Pacific. Experts had pronounced the island capable of producing enough oil to last for generations, without a lot of drilling. The contracts for the drilling would be sold to whoever placed the highest bid, of course, with a suitable cut for the French.

Lupin intended to get those documents himself and sell them back to the highest bidder on the black market. Jigen knew right now was not the best time to ask for some travel time.

Jigen stared miserably out over the piazza. He wished he knew how Cara was doing. He supposed he could just ask her, since she was standing there by the fountain, but he really wanted to…wait, what? He narrowed his eyes under his hat, straining to look for the woman he had seen The warm Italian sunlight made the courtyard shimmer, but he saw her just the same. There was no mistaking the woman who stood admiring the fountain.

He stood up, and Lupin glanced lazily at him in the Mediterranean heat. "What is it, Jigen?"

"I don't believe it, it's frigging Cara."

"What?" Lupin sat up and looked out over the courtyard. "Where?"

"Over there, by the…fountain…" But the apparition was gone.

"I don't see her," Lupin said, sniggering into his wineglass. "Usually all you see are the mandatory pink elephants when you drink. Let it go, buddy, if she hasn't written to you by now, she's probably trying to forget you." _And me_, he thought sourly, his mood darkening like a storm breaking over Tuscany.

Jigen scowled, putting the nearly full bottle of scotch back onto the table and grabbing the jacket he had slung over the back of the chair. Lupin started to stop the gunman, but he knew his surly and sarcastic friend needed his time alone.

He nursed his wine, sighing at the tourists who wandered along the edge of the courtyard, still foolish enough to be moving even in the heat of midday. His mind told him it was only sixty degrees, but the sunshine and the sluggish nature of the city itself made his body claim it was hotter than it was. It was nearly February, and it was usually the perfect time to visit Rome, which was why he was here.

Lupin hated the cold, almost as much as he hated squid. He was in Italy during the winter, and everywhere in-between the rest of the year. His vacations, usually mixed with business like this one was, contained hefty amounts of drinking, dining, and taunting Pops, who kept coming even in the off season. He wondered when Cara would make her appearance. If she were here, that was.

He didn't doubt the sharp eyes of his friend. Jigen wasn't a sharpshooter with a 0.3 second draw because he was lucky. He also knew where Cara was when the trial let out. She had been in a motel with Zenigata, and he had feared for her sanity. When the snow had melted, his informants had noted them getting on a plane together, and he wondered how long it had taken Pops to convince her to help catch him.

He gave Cara about a week of putting up with Pops.

Putting down his empty wineglass, he stood and stretched, not the least bit affected by the alcohol. _Well, maybe a little of it got to me_, he amended as he wobbled into the hotel room. Goemon sat against the wall, sipping at his sake. Lupin wove his way over and sat against the wall next to the samurai. Goemon cocked an eyebrow, but he said nothing.

"Where's Jigen?" Lupin asked, slurring his words slightly. Goemon took a sip and fixed his eyes on the far wall. Lupin poked him in the shoulder. The samurai got a long-suffering look on his face and cast his eyes to heaven.

"Jigen said he was stepping out for a bit. I imagine you said something to him to anger him, did you not?" The samurai held Lupin in a cold-eyed gaze. Lupin shrugged.

"I told him seeing Cara out in the piazza was kind of impossible, considering she flew off with Pops a couple of days ago from Chicago. He's probably dropped her off in England and is on his way here to try and arrest me for the millionth time." The master thief rested his chin in his palm.

"What one sees is not always the projection of reality," Goemon said wisely. "Perhaps it was yearning that made Cara stand in front of the fountain for Jigen."

"That's what I said, but he got pissy at me."

"A wise person does not tell someone who is in love to forget the object of their affections." Goemon took another sip at his sake. "It is not in Jigen's nature to care about someone like Cara, and so he does not know how to deal with his…samudaya." Goemon seemed to struggle for that last word, and Lupin recognized it. It meant, in the Buddhist religion, that there was a cause for suffering, such as anger or jealousy, or the need to control the world around you and make it fit your preconceptions.

Then another thought tangled itself up in Lupin's hazy brain. "Wait…Jigen is in love with Cara?"

"You can't be so wrapped up in your own affairs that you didn't notice it." Goemon looked a little disgusted with Lupin, but then again, he always did.

Lupin's jaw nearly dropped. Of course. That was why Jigen had insisted he be the one to drive the sedan in the Sutton Hoo job. That was why he kept in touch with Cara, even when the woman was pissed off at other members of the group. Hell, who was he kidding, the only one Cara had ever been pissed off at was him.

He looked at Goemon, realization dawning. "So you're saying Jigen's gone to find Cara?"

It was impressive how the calm and composed samurai managed to avoid rolling his eyes. "Yes, Lupin."

"But she's working for Zenigata!"

"I highly doubt that. She might have become friends with Zenigata, but there's no way she would help him."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because, unlike Fujiko, she has a sense of honor, and wouldn't do that to us."

"Speaking of Fujiko, where is she?"

"I would assume she's out conning some rich man out of his money and using it to shop."

Lupin folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. "I hope they both decide to come back before tonight. Those contracts aren't going to steal themselves."

* * *

Jigen stalked through the city of Rome, his jacket slung over his shoulder on his fingers. _I know I saw her. I KNOW I did. She was there, by the fountain._ His feet made a hollow ringing on the deserted cobblestones of the back alley, and then he saw her. She slipped into a motel off the beaten track. It looked like a bed-and-breakfast, and as he approached, he realized that was exactly what it was. Mama Canoli's. He snorted. Tourist trap. He should have known. 

Wait, why would Cara go to one of these seedy little motels, when her credit cards would more than cover a respectable hotel? He lifted his fedora and scratched his head. This was odd. The ban on her credit cards had been lifted weeks ago. Lupin had seen to it personally. So why was she in a place that only took cash, and American currency at that?

He was determined to find out.

He stepped into the entrance. The place was as expected, all dirt and grime and catering to their American customers looking for an authentic Italian trip. His lip curled. What was Cara doing here, when she could obviously afford something better?

A busty Italian matron was cleaning the sitting room, humming a song. Her eyes were hard, though, and you could tell she was humming only to keep up the pretense. Jigen sauntered up and eyed her.

"You looking for a room, sir?" The heavy accent nearly knocked Jigen over. The woman was out to make a quick buck, and all the locals knew it.

"No, thanks. I was looking for a lady friend of mine. About five-eight, short brown hair, streaked blonde, blue eyes. You know her?"

"I know her, she's one of my boarders. You police?" she asked, eyeing his scruffy appearance and the shoulder holster displayed prominently. Jigen hadn't bothered to put his coat back on; it was too damn hot.

"Nah, I'm not police, but I would like to talk to her. Which room is she staying in?"

"That, you will have to pay for." She held out a fleshy hand, the black currant eyes in her doughy face lighting with greed. He sighed and dropped a hundred dollars American into her palm. Nodding, she counted the twenties quickly and stuffed them in her apron. "Room 23. First door on your right when you go upstairs to the second floor."

He strode out of the parlor and up the stairs, his long legs taking the steps two at a time. He had to find out what she was doing here. She hated being away from London too long; she said it interfered with business.

Ducking his head to get his lean frame through the door, he looked around the shabby hallway. _Cara would never bunk down here_, he thought. _It's not safe, first of all. I mean, look how easily I got in and found out where her room was._

The floor creaked slightly under his passage. The dirty, scuffed walls were anything but something Cara would approve of. He liked this less and less. But, there was the sound of a woman inside the room he was looking for, number twenty-three.

He knocked quietly. "Who is it?" a voice sang out. Had it not sounded so much like Cara, Jigen wouldn't have pushed open the door. He stood, staring, as Cara held up a towel over her chest and screamed.

"Cara, chill out, it's me, Jigen!" He held his hands palm up to show he wasn't armed…at least at the moment. She still screamed and looked extremely frightened, like she didn't know who he was. He shut the door behind him to muffle the screaming a little, and snapped, "Shut up."

She quieted almost immediately. Well, almost. "I'll have you know, I'm about to go out with an Interpol detective, so you'd better just get out of my room, whoever you are!"

He nearly ran over to her and grabbed her wrists. "What did you say?"

The girl was trembling. "I'm about to go out on a date with Inspector Zenigata of Interpol, so back off!" She tried to free her wrists and slap him, but her struggles did nothing but loosen her contact. It fell to the floor noiselessly, revealing a green eye under the icy blue ones.

Jigen nearly recoiled. "You're not Cara."

"Yes, I am. I don't know who you are, though, and if you don't get away from me now, I'll scream again."

"If you were Cara de Brouligiere, you would know Daisuke Jigen." He shook her until he swore he could hear her teeth rattle in her skull. "Who are you, and why are you pretending to be her?"  
She screeched at him, her hands trying to claw at him, but he held her back and shook her again. "M-my name is Nandra…and I'm going to be Zeni's girlfriend if it kills _her_!" She struggled to be let go, and he pushed her down, horrified. She hit the floor and scrabbled for the door, but he stood in front of it and blocked her exit.

"Where is she?" he growled, the Magnum finally coming from its shoulder holster. She stared in terror at the barrel of the gun, beads of sweat prickling on her upper lip. "You know what will happen if I pull this trigger, right? Your blood and brains will splatter all over the far wall of this crappy hotel room. So tell me where Cara is!"

She broke, her resolve not as strong as one would think. "I don't know! I saw some guys drag her off the plane when we landed in Rome, but…but I don't know where they took her!"

"That's friggen' bull, and I know it! Where is she?" He adjusted the sights on the Magnum, bringing them to bear right between her eyes. She started crying, and he knew she was telling all she knew, whether the tears were fake or not.

He knew of one way to get the truth, as far as Cara was concerned. "Get up," he snapped. She stood hastily and he grabbed one of her arms, tucking his gun back into its holster. "We're going to get some questions answered."

"Where?"

"Where else? I'm sure the good Inspector would like to see his blind date."

* * *

**Ah, yes, the inevitable cliffhanger. Sorry! I know it might be a little late, but I'm already working on the next chapter, so sit tight. :)**

**Till then,**

**Lywinis**


	9. The Inspector Has All the Answers

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis

Chapter Nine: The Inspector Has All the Answers

Jigen practically dragged Nandra downstairs. The Italian matron looked up from her cleaning, but didn't stop them. She'd seen her share of jealous husbands, and she knew that the girl was in for a world of hurt. The long lanky man must be working for a jealous mob boss.

She looked down as Jigen passed, and found another hundred dollars drifting to her feet. "For the room," the lanky man said in a low voice. "Make sure all of her stuff is taken out and burned. No traces."

The matron nodded, terrified. Jigen drew himself up to his six-foot height and marched out of the motel, the Cara impersonator in tow. She stepped to the window, watching them go, and crossed herself involuntarily. _Whatever the girl has done, she is in for a world of trouble with that man. He looked like the Devil had gotten hold of his soul a long time ago_, she thought. _Il mio dio e tutti i suoi san..._

* * *

Jigen set a fast pace with his long legs, dragging her at a brisk walk through the back streets of Rome. Nandra had to practically run to keep up. She blinked furiously, and felt her other blue contact slip out of her eye. Her arm was in a cruel grip, and she was being dragged to the last person she would want to make a confession to.

She opened her mouth and took a deep breath to scream, but a quiet rumble from Jigen stopped her. "Please, do scream, that means I won't have to walk you all the way to the police department."

She shut her mouth. He smiled, his face shark-like. The quick pace resumed, and she stumbled over the unevenly placed cobbles. He jerked her up with an oath and dragged her along, snarling, "If you can't keep up, take off your damn shoes." He gestured to the high heels she had splurged on. She pulled back on his arm, trying to get away, and he turned, glaring at her.

"I have to take my shoes off, and I need both hands to do it." She gestured to the intricate straps of the stilettos, wrapping nearly halfway up her legs. He nearly laughed at her.

"You don't need to do anything," he said with a strange smile. He pulled out a switchblade, and she nearly started screaming again. He slashed downward on both legs, the sharp blade parting the expensive Italian leather like butter and not leaving a scratch on her. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, the shoes dropping off her feet.

"This'll make us go faster," he said with a smirk, and he started walking again, Nandra jouncing painfully on his shoulder.

It was so undignified; it made Nandra want to cry. She knew she had to look a mess: her shoes were gone, her contacts were gone, and she hadn't even managed to fix her hair yet. Zeni would never love her now…

The walk was interminable, yet it was in near secrecy as Jigen took back roads and paths to the nearest police station. He walked through the door, bearing his gift, and was instantly surrounded by several armed police officers. He smiled and set her on her feet.

"I'd like to see Detective Inspector Zenigata of Interpol, please," he said in halting but well-spoken Italian. He might not be very good at the language, but you had to know a little to get around, especially if some of your contacts weren't bilingual.

"Who are you to make demands like that?" one of the officers asked.

"Because I know where he can find Arsene Lupin the third. My name is Daisuke Jigen. He'll see me, trust me." He waved a negligent hand at Nandra. "And this young lady knows where he can find Cara de Brouligiere."

The cops scrambled, looking for phones and dialing several precincts. Soon enough, as Jigen and Cara were both seated in separate waiting areas, and Zenigata burst in just as Jigen was lighting another Pall Mall.

"Where's Lupin!" he roared, much to Jigen's amusement. Same old Pops.

"More to the point, Pops, where's Cara?"

Zenigata stalled then. He almost seemed to lose steam. "I…don't know. She was taken from the airport; two big guys in black jumpsuits grabbed her. I got the little one, but the bigger one grabbed her shoulder and marched her off."

"Asshole. How could you lose her? Aren't you supposed to be the great Inspector Zenigata? Where were you, right behind her?"

"I was right behind her! There were two guys who went after her and I was only able to get one!" Zenigata leaned over on the table, his palms flat on the scarred wood. His face was contorted in anger, and a little color had gone to his neck. "And I did a lot better than you, considering she's been missing for three days and you're just now catching wind of it."

Jigen nearly punched Zenigata right then. He restrained himself, however, and leaned back in his chair, dragging thoughtfully on his cigarette. "I thought I found her a while ago," he began. Zenigata seemed to catch interest, leaning forward again.

"She was standing outside in the piazza, staring up at the fountain. I could see her from the hotel room balcony where Lupin and I were drinking--" He held up his hand when Pops opened his mouth to speak. "I'm not going to tell you where Lupin's at, you might as well drop it. Anyway, she walked off, and I followed her. We came to a cheap motel, somewhere Cara would never be, and she went inside. I followed her up there, to discover…that you have a stalker."

Zenigata cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"Someone named Nandra has stolen Cara's likeness, and she probably knows where my former partner is. I want her back. So I brought Nandra to you. I figure you'll be able to make her talk where I couldn't."

"Nandra!" He seemed not so surprised. "When Cara and I were in the hotel in Chicago, she was the one who gave me her phone number."

Jigen looked a little surprised. "You have girls that give you their numbers?"

The inspector's smile was bitter as he held up a pair of handcuffs. "I am a man of the law."

The gunman caught the double entendre, and he roared with laughter. He suddenly sobered as he remembered why he was here. He stood up. "I want to see you question her too."

Zenigata nodded. They walked, for once not as rivals, but as allies. They both wanted to see if Cara was safe, for surprisingly similar reasons. They would return to their opposite sides of the playing field when this was done, and both knew it, but they could work together for a time. Both were hoping it wasn't too late.

* * *

Nandra was sitting in one of the chairs in the next interrogation room. She looked up at Zenigata when he entered, but no spark of recognition flared into life on his face. She was hoping he'd mistake her for Cara, but his face was stern as he walked in. Jigen was right behind him, another one of his Pall Malls clenched between his lips.

"What's the meaning of all this?" Zeni said tiredly as he rubbed a hand over his face. He had about three days worth of stubble on his chin, and it only made him look better to the green eyed girl that sat in the hard plastic chair in front of him. Jigen saw the fawning looks of adoration she was throwing at Pops, and he nearly burst out into laughter again. This was almost ridiculous.

He nodded at the girl. "So you know her?"

Zenigata shook his head. "She looks like Cara, except for the green eyes."

"I might be able to explain that," Jigen said, reaching out and tugging on Nandra's hairline. The wig and the mask she was wearing both tore free at the gentle pressure, revealing the black-haired little stalker from the hotel in Chicago. "Let me guess, girlie, you hired Pepé and Henrìk to do your make-up until you could get the surgery?"

She nodded slowly and he folded his arms and stared hard at Zenigata. The gunman wore a deadly serious expression on his face. "We need to find out where Cara is."

"You know where she is, don't you?" asked Zenigata. He didn't look at Nandra.

"No."

"Damn it, you're lying!" Jigen nearly throttled the girl. "Someone with access to this kind of make-up specialists and this type of cash to throw away on clothes, all to pretend to be the Ruby Princess? You have to know what happened to her."

She shook her head, her eyes challenging the gunman to do anything in the police station. He matched her gaze, his hat dropping over his eyes and making him seem more dangerous.

Zenigata broke the tension. "Nandra, if you know where she is, I need to know."

Her eyes grew hard. "Why, so you can run to her? Is that it?" She glared at Zenigata, but the Inspector was just too tired and too stressed to be bothered with playing mind games. He brought out his handcuffs and slapped them on her wrists. She looked up at him in anger.

"If you won't tell me, we'll keep you in lockup. Identity theft is a crime too." He knocked on the glass panel of the interrogation room. "Put her in a cell, please," he asked the officer. The young policeman snapped to attention before leading Nandra away.

She screamed down the hallway after them, her voice ringing on the stone walls of the place. "Even if I did know where she was, I wouldn't tell you! You can't protect her anymore!" Jigen went rigid.

…_protect her…_

"_Well then, damn it, let me protect you!"_

Fujiko. Jigen called himself all sorts of horrible names before he flipped open his cell phone and punched the speed dial. It rang once…twice….

On the third ring a very irritable Lupin picked up. "What?"

"Lupin, where's Fujiko?"

"How should I know? I don't keep a tracking device on her."

"Not even in her panties?"

"You're sick, Jigen."

Zenigata chose that moment to realize whom Jigen was talking to. "LUPIN! Get your ass down here right now so I can arrest you!"

"Jigen, why is Pops screaming in the background?"

"He's got a good idea of where Cara is. She's been kidnapped."

"What? That's impossible!"

"Actually, no it isn't. Her plane landed here three days ago, but she was muscled through the airport and disappeared. The girl I saw by the fountain wasn't her, but a reasonable facsimile that Pepé and Henrìk whipped up for spare change. Please be sure to let them know that when we have them on retainer that means exclusive."

Lupin grunted, surprised that so much seemed out of his grasp. "All right, I have one way of tracking Fujiko, but I don't know if it'll even work anymore. Do you remember when we turned the tables on Fujiko in that painting heist?" Jigen was silent. "All right, maybe you remember the phony grandson of Tooshuusai Sharaku? I thought so. Well, after that, I took Fujiko out for dinner, and slipped a homing device in her food so that I could track her movements for a while. I don't even know if the transmitter is still active, or even if it's still in her body. It was new technology, but it's worth a shot. I'll be there in a minute."

Jigen made a noncommittal noise and made to hang up the phone, but Lupin's voice stopped him. "Oh, and Jigen?"

"Yes?"

"Make sure Pops is sent on a wild goose chase, please. I don't want him trying to arrest me when we go look for Cara."

"I can't do that, Lupin."

"Why not?"

"He's listening to the phone conversation."

Lupin sighed. "Fine. Let me talk to him."

"You sure? I don't think he's had any ramen today. He looks kind of cranky."

"Oh, you're funny. Just give him the phone, please."

Jigen held the phone out to Zenigata. "It's for you."

* * *

Lupin sat back on the couch and sighed. It was going to be a long day. He waited as the phone was transferred, and Pops snarled into it. "Lupin! You'd better have a damn good explanation as to why I shouldn't just slap you in cuffs and haul your ass back to Tokyo!"

_Well, at least he's in good form today_, Lupin thought. "Well, for one thing, I might know where Cara is. For another, tottsan, I know you have no idea where I am right now, so you can just hush for a minute while I explain my cunning plan."

Zenigata was silent on the line.

"Good. Now, as you might remember from listening in on my conversation with Jigen, that I have a tracking device implanted in Fujiko's body. However, I don't know if it's still operational or even still in her body. Jigen has a hunch that wherever Fujiko is, she has Cara. I'm inclined to agree with him, considering how insanely jealous she's been of my habits lately."

"And what do you plan on doing about it?" growled Zenigata.

"Why, I plan to follow Fujiko and see what she plans on doing with Cara. I doubt it's just shopping and girl talk."

"Humph, I would imagine."

"Anyway, what I'm proposing is a truce."

"Hell no! I'm not stupid. I know that you're just waiting for me to let my guard down so you can escape once Cara's safe."

Lupin rolled his eyes and flopped onto his side, the phone cradled against his ear as he fiddled with the transmitter's receiver. "Listen, it's quite simple. You really don't have a choice if you want to be in on this rescue mission. I'll even let you take the credit for rescuing the heiress of the de Brouligiere fortune."

"She's not the heiress."

"What?" Lupin was baffled by this new turn of events. He set down the small electronic box and paid close attention to hear if Zenigata was telling the truth or weaving another story to try and capture him.

Zenigata's voice was dead serious. "She was disowned by her father, all because she kept company with you."

Lupin closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. _Of all the best-laid plans of mice and men…_he thought wearily.

He paused a moment before he spoke again. "Well, either way, we're going to get her back. Fujiko can't have left the city."

"Why's that?" Zenigata countered sourly. "You got something planned?"

"Of course, but it wouldn't be sporting for me to tell you what it is. Let's just declare a truce for the moment, at least until we find Cara."

"Hmm, fine. But after that, I get to arrest your ass."

"Deal." The line went dead.

Jigen took his phone back. "Lupin must have a plan other than just tracking Fujiko."

"I hope so, for Cara's sake, and for his." Zenigata looked more serious than usual, and Jigen knew that if Lupin didn't deliver this time, he wouldn't escape. He would eat his hat if he were wrong.

* * *

**It looks like the players are all set. The next chapter should be the last, unless I get up the nerve to write an epilogue. Bonus points to those of you who can name the episode with the imposter Ukiyoe painter's grandson. That, and an extra big cookie to those of you that can recognize the Baldric quote I used. XD Blackadder is the best. Check it out on the BBC if you happen to get cable. **

**I never intended for Pops to fall for Cara, but it seems that it happened that way anyway. :) I'll see to it that she treats him well, even though she doesn't feel the same way. And yes, until I decide to write a Zenigata themed fic, he will remain single...much to Nandra's disappointment. :)**

**Till Later,**

**Lywinis**


	10. Creative Liberties

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis

Chapter Ten: Creative Liberties

Lupin and Zenigata stared at each in hostility over the windshield of Lupin's Mercedes Benz SSK. Zenigata was fingering his handcuffs, and Lupin gunned the Ferrari engine involuntarily. Jigen flopped into the passenger seat and whacked Lupin. "Quit gunning the engine. We're in truce right now."

Lupin sighed and leaned out the window. "Are you coming, tottsan, dear? I can't wait all night. Our prized princess might turn into a pumpkin."

Zenigata growled and threw himself into the backseat of the Benz next to Goemon. "Just get this over with. How are you going to track her?"

Lupin held up a box about the size of a cigarette lighter. "Like my bearded friend here said once, it's all a matter of playing the game, 'What's the Damn Frequency?'" He flipped open the top of the lighter to reveal a dial. As he turned it, the small monitor on the box's side began to glow. A small green dot began to form, beeping steadily.

"Good. The transmitter managed to fix itself to her abdominal wall like it was supposed to." Lupin gunned the engine again and peeled out of the police station. They sped through the streets of Rome, taking narrow winding alleyways like they were straight-aways and scattering everything and anything in their path. Zenigata was clutching to the back of the car seat, having neglected to put on a seat belt. Goemon and Jigen, who were used to Lupin's driving, sat back, amused, as Pops shut his eyes tightly every time Lupin rounded a curve in the back alleys and threatened to tip the car onto two wheels. Finally they came to a stop.

"I don't believe it," Lupin breathed. He stared up at the Palazzo Montecitorio. "The parliament building? Right under the noses of the lawmakers?"

"Obviously taking a leaf from your book," noted Zenigata gruffly. He got out and stared at the huge building. Jigen and Goemon followed him, and Lupin got out last after concealing the Benz behind a handy stone wall. He threw a grey camouflaging tarp over the car's distinctive body and followed Zenigata around to the back.

_We're a fine looking group of tourists_, Jigen thought sourly as they searched for a back entrance. Lupin put his skills as a thief to the test and finally located a crack in the wall, cleverly hidden behind a series of strategically placed false ivy bushes. His clever fingers found the hidden latch, and the secret door swung open without a sound.

"After you, Inspector." He held a hand out mockingly, inviting Zenigata to step in first. Jigen snorted and stepped into the dark hallway ahead of the others, not waiting for an argument to break out. A bead of sweat dripped down from under the brim of his hat, and his footsteps echoed on the cold walls. He noticed when the floor started to slope downward, and he beckoned to the others.

"Hmm, winding staircase, track lighting…she _has_ been taking tips from my decorator," Lupin mused, trying lamely to lighten the mood.

The hallway continued on for some time, until they came to a sealed door. Lupin tapped on it thoughtfully. "I won't be able to get into this one without my tools. Goemon, if you'd do the honors?"

Goemon stepped up, his face expressionless. Then, before any of them could breathe, he had moved, slicing the door several times and returning Zantetsuken to its sheath. "Once again, I have cut a worthless object," he said solemnly, and pieces of the steel door fell to the ground. The hole was just big enough for them to step through.

"Heh, I never get tired of watching that," Lupin said, smirking. Jigen rolled his eyes. The gunman stepped through the hole and looked around. He didn't see the butt of the pistol come swinging down at the back of his head.

* * *

_One Hour Earlier That Day…_

Cara groaned as someone shook her shoulder roughly. Her head felt as if Mount Fuji had exploded within it, and her shoulder throbbed. She cracked an eye open to see one of the brawny thugs that had dotted the underground chamber of Fujiko's Italian headquarters. He had crudely tied a bandage around her shoulder, which seemed to be wounded. Blood seeped slowly through the gauze and her head spun. Had she gotten Fujiko?

No, she saw. Fujiko stood behind the man; a small, vicious smile spread on her face as the man tightened the bandage and Cara winced. "I see we're feeling better. Good. You have one hell of a lot of nerve, pulling a gun on me in my own bunker. You have guts, I'll grant you that."

"I thought you were going to kill me? If so, get it over with. I don't like silly games." Cara sneered at Fujiko, her whole body rigid as she strained against the bonds that held her to the wooden cot.

"Actually, no, I don't think so. Not yet, anyway." That smile plastered itself over her features again. "I want them to see you, tied to a table and waiting for death. I want them to see the thief they touted as being so damnably clever and resourceful, the wunderkind prodigy of Lupin himself, waiting for her demise instead of getting out of it."

"Damn it, Fujiko, I'm _not_ Lupin, and that's the whole point!" She struggled to sit up, but the wide cloth straps that held her to the bed wouldn't give. "I'm not here for Lupin, and I'm not here for your place as his girlfriend, or whore or whatever you call it. I'm here because you dragged me off the plane with the intention to kill me. I don't like you, but I do respect you."

Fujiko snorted. "And I'm supposed to believe anything you say? You're the one tied to the bed. Besides, I have to pay you back for the wound anyway." She pushed aside the neckline of the tee she was wearing and showed off her own bandage, in the same place. Hers was better cared for, and it made Cara smirk a little. They were equally decent shots, it seemed.

"Actually, you could believe me, or you could kill me. Like I said, I don't care either way, although it would rather disappoint me if you killed me." The grin was wry and it said she was ready for anything Fujiko could throw at her. It was a mad grin, perhaps from the situation she was in.

The gorgeous woman shook off her sense of foreboding and sneered right back at the retired thief. She played her trump card, holding up what looked like a thin plastic disk about the size of a thumbnail. "Do you know what this is?" When Cara didn't answer, she gave an indulgent smile. "It's something I've been keeping for a rainy day. Lupin has tried to track me before, especially when I make off with a lot of his money. He should be frantic to find you, or rather, me, and will activate this little chip."

She pointed to the space behind the cell door. There, in the corner, was what looked like a timer. It was taped to a large box. "That box contains enough C-4 to collapse these tunnels. Once Lupin activates the mechanism for the tracking button, he'll start the timer. When he pulls up to the building, he'll see the parliament building sink about another hundred and twenty feet deeper into the ground." She placed the small transmitter into the space made for it between the digital timer's buttons. "And when that clock comes on, you'll know to pray to whatever you believe in."

Fujiko tapped the goon on the shoulder and turned to leave. "Oh, by the way, the timer is set for an hour, just to make things sporting."

They took the light with them, leaving her in darkness. She snarled slightly, her lip curling, but she knew it was useless to try and bother with petty grievances now. If they came to find her using that transmitter, they would all die. Or she would die, if they didn't get to her in time.

She began flexing her arm, using the concentration technique Goemon taught her. Focusing all her will into the weak joint she had found while she was talking to Fujiko, she worked as patiently as she could, building up a rhythm. She heard a small cracking sound, and she nearly leapt out of her skin when the digital clock in the corner beeped to life. One hour.

She would make good use of the time, she was sure.

* * *

Jigen whirled even as Goemon stepped up and grabbed the arm of the thug. The swordsman twisted the man's arm painfully behind his back and made him drop the pistol he was holding. Zenigata even threw in on the man, slamming him up against the wall. He recognized him as the thug that had gotten away, and slapped the handcuffs on him. 

"You're going into the station, punk."

"Not if we all die first," laughed the man. He didn't struggle against his captivity, but slumped to the floor, boneless.

Jigen suddenly started to itch. He didn't like this set up one bit. Usually, Fujiko had more than one thug around…unless she had set up a trap. The man's words had definitely made him jumpy. He glanced in all of the rooms, and found no one else. Finally, at the end of the series of rooms, he found a locked and barred door. The keys were still there, so he undid the lock and lifted the bar. He opened the door and came face to face with Cara, who was tied to a cot and wrenched her arm up with a metal ringing sound as the bolt flew free from the wood. Jigen ducked, and the bolt caught Lupin right between the eyes.

"I suppose that's payment enough for what's he's let his girlfriend do," Cara noted dryly. "But we only have a few minutes left until the C-4 goes off, and I'd rather not be around to find out what it'll do to this beautiful Roman architecture."

Lupin was clutching his forehead, but he was lucid enough to understand her meaning. He quickly undid the straps that held her remaining limbs, and she sat up as if she'd been tied there for a few days. She probably had been.

Jigen was far more worried. "C-4? Oh, shit." He grabbed Cara's arm and tugged her out of the room. She winced and clutched her shoulder, and he finally noticed the bloodied gauze that had been roughly wrapped around the wound. "She _shot_ you?"

"No, we had a minor disagreement. I got her in the same place." Cara grinned and hitched up the bandage. Jigen didn't wait for her to argue, but he swept her off her feet as gently as he could manage. He carried her swiftly down the hallway, past Goemon and Zenigata, who were busy lugging the bulky thug down the hallway.

"You might want to pick up the pace," Jigen called. "There's about five minutes left till the C-4 in the other room explodes."

Lupin ran past them both. "Actually, guys, a little more like three minutes."

Zenigata and Goemon exchanged looks and hefted the guy again, who was playing "dead weight". They all ran for their lives, as all of a sudden, small explosions started down the hallway.

Goemon and Pops managed to pass Jigen, who was moving a little slower than he would like. He didn't want to hurt Cara, but he had to run if they were going to get out. He could feel the heat from the rooms behind him as the explosives set into the walls of the bunker began detonating. He struggled along, finally going all out and sprinting up the last few feet of sloping passage, a large fireball following him. He ran as fast as he could and collapsed at the last second, flames licking at the back of his jacket. He didn't bother to put it out though, he just held his body over Cara and made sure she was all right.

She had passed out from the pain in her shoulder. He turned around as the Palazzo Montecitorio began to sink into the ground, fire erupting from its lower windows. Most of the politicians had gone home for the day, and so it had been quite a surprise for the remaining group of people. All of them stood out on the sidewalk, amazed. The building belched fire for a few more minutes before the explosives caused it to collapse inwards.

Fire trucks raced around the corners, converging on the parliament building, followed closely by the police.

"I think it's time to go," said Lupin. Zenigata whirled around, glaring at the thief.

"No way, Lupin, we had a deal!" The inspector held out a pair of handcuffs. "I've got a pair of nice shiny bracelets with your name on them!"

"Well, those bracelets probably don't fit anyway," Lupin called over his shoulder as he trotted over to the car. Goemon had put out the fire on Jigen's back, and they were placing Cara in the back seat, and Jigen slipped into the back seat and rested her head in his lap. "Besides, Cara needs to see a doctor, and I can afford the best."

Zenigata had been backed into a corner again. He nodded helplessly and Lupin got behind the wheel. "Just remember, Lupin, I'll get you eventually."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He pulled up beside the inspector and stuck his hand out of the open window. "We'll consider it a promise."

Zenigata shook his hand briefly. "Better go, or the Italian police will be chasing your no-good thieving tail."

Lupin gave a crooked grin and sped off, leaving Zenigata to explain to the authorities why he just happened to have caught the man who bombed the Italian parliament.

_Business as usual_, Zenigata thought as he hailed the chief of police.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

_

* * *

_

One Month After the Bombing of the Palazzo Montecitorio…

Fujiko walked into the hotel room and tossed her light travel bag on the bed. She unbound her chestnut hair from the conservative bun she usually wore and rubbed her aching scalp. She turned around to flip on the news and relax by having a bath.

The letter got her attention. It was taped to the television, and it bore Lupin's signature elegant handwriting. She ripped open the envelope and a disc fell out. Using the DVD player the hotel so generously provided, she played the disc. Lupin's smirk was plastered across the screen, and she knew she was caught. His digital smile faded, although not quite, and he nodded to her.

"Hi, Fujicakes, it's been a while. I know you figure I'm probably mad as hell that you tried to kill Cara and the rest of us. Normally I would be, but your generous donation to her new family more than makes up for what you did."

_Donation? I never made any donation…_she thought, and then dug through the envelope to see if there was any clue as to what he was talking about. The only other thing she found was a slip of paper. Turning it over, she read what was on the paper in disbelief.

"I see you found your other little gift included with this disc. Yes indeed, I knew you had a generous heart under that greedy exterior, and so you do. I know you won't mind that I withdrew your entire savings from all thirteen separate accounts dotted all over the world. In fact, I bet the next time you show your face, you'll thank me…"

"Fat chance," she snarled, crumpling the bank statement in anger.

"…Or you'll never do business in our particular market again," Lupin finished, that infuriating smirk still on his face. "I'm sure you understand that this is what it took to convince Goemon and Jigen to allow you back into our particular circle, especially considering what you tried to do to Jigen's wife."

Fujiko shook her head. She just couldn't win against the Gentleman Thief. Picking up her cell phone, she hit her only speed-dial number and waited for the bastard to pick up.

"Why Fujiko, how nice of you to call. Offering congratulations to Jigen?"

"For what? For taking all my money? I doubt it."

Lupin laughed. "Consider it his and Cara's wedding present."

Fujiko shrugged, letting Lupin have his moment. There was always the next heist, and there was always that one time Lupin would let down his guard. And she'd be there, like always.

She wouldn't have it any other way.


	11. Epilogue

Thief in the Night

A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis

Epilogue

"Uncle Lupin!" Jessica squealed, hopping off the window seat where she held sway in the playroom. She pelted down the stairs just as Cara opened the door and flew into the famous thief's arms, knocking him onto his behind. Cara smiled at her daughter and then chided the three-year-old.

"You know we don't act that way around company, especially when it's a special day like today."

Jessica hung her head. "Sorry, Uncle Lupin." She shuffled her feet and smoothed the ruffles on her green party dress. A mischievous look spread across her face, twinkling in her blue eyes. "Wanna see my toys?"

"I'd love to, Princess," Lupin replied solemnly and was then tugged unceremoniously up the stairs to the playroom by a giggling, raven-headed child.

"It's amazing how much she acts like her mother," Lupin called back as he was tugged around the corner, but not fast enough so that he didn't see the tongue she stuck out at him.

"Lupin's here, then?" Jigen called, stepping to the door and putting his arms around Cara's waist. He bent and kissed the top of her head, and was rewarded with a smile. He was blessed, and he certainly knew it.

"Yep, he was just dragged upstairs by his goddaughter. I swear, he dotes on her more than you do." She nudged him in the ribs and he grinned at her.

"Shall we go and check on them?" Jigen asked, letting her go. She nodded, and they made their way upstairs to a scene that had become more commonplace around the holidays and birthdays.

Goemon was forced into a small plastic toddler chair, armed not with Zantetsuken, but a plastic saucer and cup of pretend tea. Inspector Zenigata and Lupin were glaring at each other in chairs opposite each other. They sat around a small table, where Jessica sat in a queenly little throne that Lupin had had made for her. Zenigata cuffed Lupin in a single fluid motion and was suddenly face-to-face with a very angry toddler.

"No, Uncle Zeni! No 'cuffs!" She waggled her chubby finger in his face, nearly nose to nose with the Interpol Officer. He sighed and let Lupin go, smiling when Jessica beamed and kissed his cheek before resuming her seat in the most unlikely court ever held.

"Looks like we're all here," Lupin said, motioning at the others gathered around. "Although I still won't ever get used to seeing you in that getup, Jigen." He shrugged and indicated the sweater and jeans the gunman was wearing.

"Yeah, but you'll understand when you have birthday cake smeared all over your four hundred dollar silk shirt." Jigen held out the platter he had grabbed from the kitchen. A homemade cake sat on the silver serving plate, iced in chocolate and green lettering, reading _Happy Birthday, Princess Jessica_.

"Shall we, then?" asked Cara. The others nodded, and she began to sing in a low, husky voice. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, sweet Jessica, happy birthday to you." The others joined in, Goemon and Zenigata having surprisingly good voices to add to the din.

The little girl beamed as she looked around at the gathered circle of parents and godparents. Her face fell as she noted a missing person, though. "Where's Auntie Fujiko?" she asked.

"Right here," came a voice from behind Cara. Fujiko stood at the top of the stairs, a small smile on her face. "I also have a birthday surprise for your mommy."

"Please tell me it's not another kilo of C-4?" Cara asked dryly.

"Nothing like that, but something you'll like nonetheless." She stepped aside and her father stood there, clad in the same starched suit she always remembered. Cara ran to him and hugged him. She pulled back and looked at him, still not quite believing it.

"Daddy, what are you doing here?"

"You thought I would miss my granddaughter's birthday?"

"You didn't even know you had a granddaughter."

"Because someone is ashamed to tell me when they get married after surviving an explosion and a gunshot wound? I'm sorry if I worry too much about you that you feel your life-or-death experiences are something to keep hidden from me."

She grinned at him. "Well, you know, you hate me and everything, so I figured you wouldn't want to know."

Jigen stepped up to her side, placing a protective arm around her waist. Alphonse and Jigen came face-to-face for the first time, bristling as they sized each other up. Cara smiled and nudged her husband. "He's not going to bite you, let it go."

"So you are the man that stole my little girl's heart and made her a thief."

"Actually, sir, that was me," Lupin interjected. "A long time ago."

"Perhaps you'd better introduce me to my granddaughter first, and then explain all of this to me."

Cara squatted down on her haunches. "Jessica, come here. There's someone I want you to meet." Her daughter ran to her, and she lifted the little girl and presented her to her father. "This is your grandpa."

"A pleasure to meet you, little one," her father said, holding out his hand. The little girl shook it solemnly.

"My name's Jessica."

"I see. Mine is Alphonse."

"Want some cake?"

"I would love some, my dear."

The little girl laughed and wriggled to be let down. Her mother obliged her and she seized her grandfather's hand and led him to a place at the already cramped table. He was seated between Zenigata and Goemon, who shared long-suffering smiles and welcomed their new party-mate.

* * *

After Jessica was put to bed ("I'm not tired, mommy…"), the adults were seated around the kitchen table having drinks and talking. Alphonse had demanded the story from the beginning, so his daughter told the whole tale as she remembered it, with the others interjecting where appropriate. She began with her first heist with Lupin, working up to the Crown Jewels, then finishing out with the Sutton Hoo caper and the events afterward. According to her side of the story, she had finally realized what she had been missing when she taught Zenigata rudimentary English. She'd been missing Jigen, and the times they had spent together, staking out an area for Lupin, just talking quietly or sitting in a companionable silence. 

However, she'd not been able to do anything. He was gone with Lupin, and she figured they wouldn't want her around anymore. She'd gotten on the plane with Zenigata, and was kidnapped at the gates. She was eventually rescued by the combined efforts of the trio and Zenigata, but she'd been hospitalized for her wound. Jigen had been badly burned along his back when he covered her with his body, and was placed next to her in the ICU. While they healed, a certain amount of discussion had gone on. They'd made a full recovery, and were married soon after.

"So, when Daisuke and I were married, Lupin presented us with a check. I boggled at what the amount was, and he told me that Fujiko had donated it."

Lupin sighed at the memory. "She made me pay back every penny, but it was worth it."

Fujiko nodded. "It took a long time for Cara to finally forgive me, but Lupin finally got through to her. I'm not really all that bad."

Cara cocked an eyebrow, and the two women laughed. "We actually went outside when we met the first time and had a discussion."

"I'll say they did," snickered Lupin. "Cara broke Fujicakes' arm, and Cara had a black eye."

"Well, that's certainly a story," remarked Alphonse, running a hand through his thick shock of black hair. His dark blue eyes danced with mirth. "If it were anyone but Cara, I would be inclined to call him or her a liar."

The adults' talk was cut short by the chiming of the clock. It was midnight. The inspector stretched, then looked pointedly at Lupin. The thief took the hint and nodded to Fujiko and Goemon. The three stood up and made their goodbyes to the family, then made their way out to the porch, Zenigata following closely.

Alphonse, Cara, and Jigen followed after, watching the play by play of events. Cara and Jigen both bore smiles, and her father regarded them rather strangely. He was rewarded with the sight of three people being chased by someone who had spent the entire day civilly in the company of the same people.

"Damn it, Lupin, get your ass back here!" Zenigata shouted. Lupin merely laughed and peeled out in his Benz.

"Maybe next time, Pops, catch you later!"

"LUUUUPPPPIIINNN!" The cry echoed through the quiet neighborhood, as Zenigata gave chase in his old jalopy.

"What was that all about?" asked Alphonse.

"We're neutral ground," chimed Jigen and Cara together, laughing.

_The End_

_

* * *

_

**God, I never thought I would actually finish something that wasn't a one-shot or a single drawing. Thanks to all of you who've reviewed and read my story, it means a lot to me. In no particular order: DJ Clawson, KouichiZenigata, Fox Xanatos, and Joselyn Greenleaf, you guys rock. Especially threatening me with cookies. I think that may have gotten my tail in gear. :)**

**Till the next Story,**

**Lywinis**


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